


Haven of Paradise

by Rutaaa



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Blood, Character Death, Chuck is dead, Chuck was eaten, Depressed Minho, Dreams, Elements from Book & Movie, Eventual Happiness, Explanations, F/F, Fix-it fic, Frypan feels, Gen, Goodbyes, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Harmful memories, Hawaii is Paradise, I have so many characters, Like alotta science, M/M, Medical Terms, Memories, Newt Lives, Nightmares, Paradise, Post - The Death Cure, Reunions, Safe Haven, Science Jargon, Scorch Trials mention, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide reference, The Flare, The Flare Virus, a look into the mind, brenda gally and frypan reunion, chuck - Freeform, dont hate vince, everybody gets to know hes ALIVE, graphic novels, gun shooting, he didnt ask to be the leader, heavy original characters, hes protecting thomas and minho and frypan and gally, hes tryna keep them safe and away from WCKD's manipulations, i love frypan, im so sorry but not everyone is getting out alive, im sorry, its your guess as to who it is, mentioning of homicide, mentioning of killing kids, mentioning of killing normal people, minewt reunion, newt realizes what love is, newtmas reunion, reunited, someone help vince, sorry about this, tagging as chapters come out, the triple threat are united once more, there is a lot of killing this chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rutaaa/pseuds/Rutaaa
Summary: The Flare is a manmade epidemic that was spread to control population growth and to enhance the chances of survival by the ones best fit for it. Except nothing ever goes according to plan. The Flare reigned across the earth and wiped civilizations out... but it also brought them back. Brought them back in the worst way possible. Now the survivors had more than just a dwindling planet to watch out for.Except. The Flare is a parasitic disease. It needs a host to live. So what really happens when a Crank dies? No one ever sticks around long enough to find out. But what if... someone did?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally fell to the urge to share this with everybody. This kind of fix-it has been trapped in my mind ever since I read the books and watched the Scorch Trials. I was kind of amazed that no one had thought of it before. That's what I get for being a STEM major and taking science to the next level to explain fics. But anyways, there ya'll have it.
> 
> [Here's](http://rutaaabaga.tumblr.com) my Tumblr if anyone wants to yell with me about the Maze Runner or even just discuss what this ficis in its entirety. A lot of stuff will be explained later on but I'm always down to go into tons more detail.

“Jay, Jo you’re gonna wanna see this.”

The brown haired twins glanced up from their hunched over positions in front of the chemicals that laid about on the table. They shared a look before the younger straightened out and walked to where a radio lay. “What do you got Ev?” 

The radio held static for a bit before their friend replied. “It looks like a crank with a knife in his chest… but his heart’s still beatin’.” 

The other twin stood up at the words, having been looking to his brother. He hastily walked to his twin and took the radio from him. “What do you mean, ‘still beating’?” He shared a look with his brother and saw Jordan worry his bottom lip. 

“I mean what I said Jayden… Just--you two needa get down here now.” Static rained through the connection, followed by a heavy sigh. “I got no idea what to make of this.” 

Jayden heaved his own sigh, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Alright, we’ll be out there in about 20. Any of WCKD around?” 

“You know the living ones hightailed it outta here when they got word Janson was full on Gone. They didn’t want to stick around and deal with the rebel’s bullshit,” came the reply. “Think you can make it in 15? I ain’t ever seen shit like this before.”

Rubbing a hand down his face Jayden breathed out, placing the radio back in his brother’s hand. Jordan nodded as Jayden walked away. “We’ll do our best Ev… no promises though.” 

“Yeah, yeah… just-- hurry it up.” 

  
  
  
  


Several minutes later, making record time past the insurgent mutts at the city gates, the twins were approaching up stairs on a group of four people all standing in an open area. Behind them was the street that led towards what once was WCKD’s headquarters. And on the ground in front of them was a boy that looked dead. 

His body was covered in the same black veins that took over more than half the world, infected with the same disease that steals loved ones away from everyone. That has stolen so many people from their own group, even if it has brought them six more. His hair was matted down terribly, dark fluid over his chin and covering his shirt. The same dark fluid surrounded the knife in his chest and it…looked to be moving?

Jayden pulled gloves from his back pocket and moved between the group, pulling the latex on and crouching down beside the boy. Upon closer look, the black fluid was  _ bubbling _ around the knife wound, like it was burning. Something tapped his shoulder and he lifted a hand to grip around the small vial that was passed to him by Jordan. 

Carefully, Jayden scooped some of the bubbling fluid into the vial, watching the remaining fluid bubble violently, covering the place that was exposed, settling down marginally when it was fully covered once more. Jayden eyed the fluid warily, standing up to look at the group who had been watching him silently. 

“I…” he trailed off, glancing away from their eyes. “...I don’t know what to make of this. I’ve never seen any sort of fluid behave this way… and if my assumptions are correct, that black fluid is the Flare virus. I’ve… never seen this before…” He looked back at the still body. 

“That caught my attention first too,” the shortest blond said, crouching beside the body. “‘Swat made me come over here in the first place… that and how he still hasn’ been picked up yet. The mutts shoulda found him by now…” 

“Mighta thought it wasn’ worth the effort,” the tallest blond grumbled. “Prolly saw he wasn’ one o’ their’s an’ left ‘im ta rot.” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around. He settled his hands against the gun hanging over his chest and hefted it up. “Imma make sure we don’ get‘ny… visitors.” He nodded towards the auburn haired twins and they followed behind him, gripping their own weapons. 

Jordan hummed in response. “Be careful Raph. You know the mutts don’t take too kindly to us running around. Especially you with your way of speaking.” 

“Not my fault the bastards take everythin’ as an insult,” Raphael growled, shuffling his shoulders. The three broad shouldered men each took different places to where obvious entrances to the area was, the places not surrounded completely by rubble from fallen buildings. Jayden shook his head, huffing quietly. He crouched down beside the small blond and reached his hand out to the crank’s neck. 

He startled when he felt the pulse. 

“It’s amazing how there isn’t any rubble around here…” Jordan began, glancing around the well-maintained area. “There’s hardly any sort of debris in the area.” 

“Yeah… ‘stoo ‘spicious,” the blond replied, standing up. “So many collapsin’ buildin’s and not a single chunk a rock in this area… how the  _ hell _ does that happen?” 

The two continued to speak quietly and Jayden ignored them. His gaze rested on the knife in the boys chest. What if… but that was impossible wasn’t it? The Flare is a disease spread to control population when the Solar Flares started wiping out areas and evacuation shelters couldn’t hold anyone else. It wasn’t something that…  _ protected _ .

Taking a chance, Jayden reached forwards and grabbed the hilt of the knife, yanking it upwards in one smooth motion. Immediately the fluid bubbled vigorously over the wound and steam seemed to rise from it. Jayden watched intently, studying its movements, observing how it bubbled and then slowed, fizzling out, leaving just black fluid in its place. 

Two bodies crouched beside him and watched as well, conversation falling silent. Jordan produced a white cloth from his back pocket and stretched forwards, laying it over the black fluid and wiping it away. The fluid came off with no resistance, wiping away cleanly, leaving no residue, as if Jordan had merely wiped water from the boy’s chest. 

Suddenly, the boy jerked and gasped loudly, body arching off the concrete and the blond immediately pulled the twins away, his gun rising up to point at the boy’s head. The boy’s body spasmed for a few seconds before relaxing, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. 

“Evan…”

“Ya know we can’t Jayden. Too dangerous. Especially with how the last ones turned out,” the blond hissed. “I know ya want to study the Flare yourself and learn how it evolved from when it was first released, but we can’t be takin’ any more monkeys for ya.”

“They aren’t monkeys Evan!” Jayden growled. “You know they aren’t!”

“Fine then!” Evan shouted back. “ _ Lab rats _ ! It’s all the same Jay!” 

“But it’s not! If I can figure out how it’s evolved to get past so many serums then I can find a cure! Or at least something that makes people immune until it changes again!” 

“This isn’t one o’ your fancy nat’ral diseases!” Evan grabbed Jayden’s shirt and dragged him upwards, away from the crank. “This one’s manmade and everyone that knew how ta fix it is dead!” 

“I  _ know _ what I’m doing Evan!” Jayden gasped. “We don’t have much serum left and we all know that it’s hardly working on you anymore! You won’t last long enough if I can’t study the Flare!” 

“ _ I’ve already accepted my death! _ ” The scream was loud and echoed. A sharp intake of breath made them pause, Evan glancing to Jordan, who was holding back his tears at the sight. He looked back at Jayden and saw his own tears threatening to escape. Softly, he continued, letting his tight grip go and resting his hand on the brunet’s chest. “I’ve already accepted my death… an’ you should too.” 

Gunfire suddenly surrounded them and Evan breathed a curse. It came from the street entrance, where Raphael was quickly running back towards them. 

“Gotta go kiddos!” He exclaimed. From the stair entrance, Mason and Jason, the auburn haired twins, came rushing towards them. 

“Raph! What did you do?!” Jason exclaimed. The bulky blond gripped onto Evan’s arm and began pulling him away. 

“I di’nt do nothing! It was all their shoutin’!” Shouts joined the gunfire and it halted for a second before footsteps came rushing towards them. “C’mon, we gotta go.” 

He began pulling on Evan’s arm incessantly and the shorter blond followed him. Jordan and Jason followed behind them but Jayden hesitated. Just as he reached the stairs he turned back to the boy on the ground, watching his chest rise and fall steadily. He bit his lip and glanced to his friends who were making their way back through the city. Growling to himself, Jayden spun on his heel and hurried to the boy, pulling at his body to sit him up. 

He wasn’t going to let this chance get away. The Flare was acting differently than anything Jayden has ever seen… he  _ needed _ to know who this was and why the Flare was…  _ protecting _ him from death. 

The brunet struggled to get the boy sitting up quickly, wanting to lift him onto his back so he could run faster and get away from the rebel cretins. He huffed and pulled the boy’s arms over his shoulders only to gasp when the dead weight was lifted from him. His gaze shot up but he quickly relaxed seeing Mason’s stoic face. 

He nodded to Jayden and the brunet grinned, pressing his lips to Mason’s cheek in thanks. The tall auburn haired man grunted and lifted the boy with ease, cradling him against his chest easily. Jayden bent down and lifted the gun that Mason had set down to lift the boy and held it towards the street entrance as shouts got closer and footsteps pounded. 

In a flash, Jayden followed after Mason before the rebels could come around the corner and see them, the two disappearing from the city. 

  
  
  


When Mason and Jayden entered the spacious room they used as the lab, Evan growled at him loudly. “I told ya not to!” 

Jayden exploded right back, arms throwing in the air, Mason dodging around him and setting the boy on an empty table. “I wasn’t going to leave him there Evan! He was breathing! For some reason the Flare wasn’t  _ killing _ him! It was  _ protecting _ him from death!” 

“That doesn’ mean you fuckin’ need him! Ya got your sample of his virus!” 

“I wasn’t going to leave him in the hands of those mutts!”

“So he’s betta as one o’ your lab rats!” 

“He’s safer here with us than with them!”

Before Evan could reply, a groan sounded from the boy and Jayden pushed past the blond. He was stopped from completely leaning over the boy by Mason, the taller man shaking his head slightly. Jayden huffed and watched the boy carefully, biting his lips roughly. Raphael, Evan, and Jason all brought their guns up, training them on the boy in case he was still Gone. Jordan migrated to the other side of the table, picking up a syringe with a clear liquid in it. 

Another groan came and the boy’s face scrunched up in pain. A thin hand raised to the matted hair and fell against his temple. The boy turned on his side and curled up moaning in pain. Jayden looked up at Mason and pushed down on his arm slightly, the taller man letting him go forwards. 

The brunet came up beside the boy, his twin placing a silver light in his hand. Jayden carefully bent towards the boy’s face, reaching his hand into the protection of his face and lifting an eyelid. He shined the light into the boy’s eyes, watching the response he got, seeing the pupils react wildly and dilate. The boy mumbled softly and Jayden backed up, handing the light back to Jordan. 

He spoke softly to the boy, voice just over a whisper. “It’s alright, you're okay. Everything is fine.” The boy groaned again and opened his eyes, flinching away, clutching his head. 

“I-I don’t--” 

“Hush now,” Jayden shushed, letting his hand fall to one of the boy’s hands. He slowly lifted it, trying to calm the boy. “You don’t need to speak, just stay calm. You're okay now.” 

Jayden carefully coaxed the boy to lay on his back, his attitude completely different than expected from a supposed crank...especially one at the boy’s stage-- far past the Gone. Jordan joined in calming the boy, carefully extracting blood from him so they could test it. Jayden brushed the boys blond looking hair away from his face, threading his fingers through the strands to untangle it. 

The boy blinked several times and seemed more awake and coherent at the twins ministrations. His eyes were flickering all around, and he kept twitching when his sights fell on anyone in the room. Jayden spoke softly, hoping to not startle him. “Can you tell me your name?”

The boy opened his mouth, licking his lips. He stuttered incoherently for a few seconds before speaking one word that was intensely clear to Jayden. 

“...Newt.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so not all updates will be this fast, I just wanted to get everything officially moving along. So that no one will read the first chapter and decide it's not worth to stick around. This is mostly a filler chapter, kind of explaining who everyone is really. Next chapter is when things really take off and cause problems. 
> 
> And once again, [here's](http://rutaaabaga.tumblr.com)my Tumblr for anyone that wants to scream at me easier.

A steaming cup was set in front of him and he sighed wearily, pushing the papers away from him and lifting the warm cup to his lips, blowing on the brown liquid. A hulking figure sat beside him and Jayden leaned against the wide chest, sipping slowly at the hot chocolate given to him. A strong arm was wrapped around his waist and he was pulled more snug against the firm chest. 

Jayden sighed, setting the cup down and turning his face into Mason’s neck. Mason tilted his head against Jayden’s in a silent question. 

“...I’m worried about Newt,” he began. His hand trailed over the papers he set down before, pulling them slightly closer. “His… Flare is different than anything I’ve ever seen before…” He sighed again shutting his eyes in frustration. Large fingers pinched his hip and he huffed a laugh against Mason’s collarbone. “His blood tested positive for the Flare but the virus cells weren’t attacking anything unlike the previous blood tests we've seen. The virus cells were… _ surrounding _ his blood cells like forming another layer to them. The same with the white blood cells.

“Even an x-ray showed us nothing from previous tests. It was like… the virus cells changed to keep their host  _ alive _ and formed protective barriers around every organ. Even in the brain, instead of attacking they… transformed to protect. Virus cells don’t  _ do _ that!” he finished with an exclamation. 

A hand threaded into his hair and softly massaged the back of his neck. “I know, I know. But Newt… he  _ looks _ like a crank but he’s perfectly  _ normal  _ otherwise. Nothing about him but his appearance gives away that he has the Flare…” he trailed off. “...and I don’t know  _ why _ .” Mason pressed a kiss to his forehead and Jayden sighed again, pushing the lab results away from him. “Thanks Mace.” 

The chest Jayden rested on vibrated softly in the tell tale sign of Mason humming. One of the only forms of sound communication Mason still had. When they were all younger, a few years after the Flare virus had been released, Mason had been caught in an accident with cranks, had been  _ thrown _ to them by his parents because they thought he was sick with the Flare, when it was actually just a common cold. 

The cranks had ripped into a five years old Mason, for some reason leaving him with enough parts connected to live through the experience. When he was finally tracked down by Raphael’s mother, who had been asked by Jason to find him, treatment was almost impossible. But Raphael’s mother called in a few favors from Evan’s parents, who had taken to studying the Flare and learning more doctoral studies in the wake of the virus. 

They patched Mason up the best they could, but did not have high hopes he would live… and if he did he would contract the Flare from the bites the cranks gave him. Imagine their surprise when Mason healed just fine--despite his lack of voice-- and never contracted the Flare, showing the first signs that a generation was being born with immunity to the Flare. 

Evan’s parents ended up testing all their children, Jason, and Raphael. Evan’s eldest brother was not immune but his elder twin siblings were. Evan himself, was not immune either. Raphael and Jason both tested positive for immunity as well. Eventually, they were unable to keep the information to themselves, especially when their small community learned that Mason had once been in the hands of cranks and called for his death, only to find him uninfected. 

This caused WCKD to begin their plotting. They tried several times over to get the boys in their grasps, even attempting to kidnap them in the middle of the night. They wanted to test the immunes and try and find a vaccine-- but Evan’s parents and Raphael's mom were adamant that WCKD would not touch the kids. They protected them with their life, always moving away from wherever WCKD was. 

A few years of wandering, the group moved to a place up north-- a quiet town that built themselves walls to keep out any Cranks. It was small there… and when anyone showed signs of the Flare, they were shot in the head and burned in their house, so the disease would not spread as easily. There, Evan found Jordan and Jayden, who were being abused in their own home by parents that weren’t even infected yet. 

Raphael's mom had snuck into their house one night and stole away with the twins, the group later leaving as to avoid suspicion. Jordan and Jayden tested positively for immunity and joined the large family relatively easy. They travelled across the land, eventually finding a place to settle down in the north in the protection of the mountains. 

Jordan and Jayden ended up taking a liking into the scientific side of everything and began studying with Evan’s parents, learning the history of the Solar Flares and what the Flare was. Its original DNA makeup and how it evolved over the years as it spread from host to host. The rest of the kids… they learned from Raphael’s mom how to defend and fight, how to protect themselves from cranks and healthy humans. 

It was almost a year before the first signs of the Flare being airborne caught them. Evan’s mother was the first to kill herself, without hesitating before she was too far Gone and hurt her family. Her body became a subject that Evan’s father, Jordan, and Jayden all studied, an actual victim of the Flare, where they first saw what the virus does to human cells. 

The next was Raphael’s mom… who went out for more supplies, but never came back. Evan’s father comes clean about why she never returned, that she saw her veins turning black like the cranks and that she would not survive much longer. They never found a body though, and can only assume she hid herself well before dying instead of letting the disease take control. 

Evan’s father lasted much longer, another year and a half before he finally contracted the Flare. At this point however, Jayden had stepped into bigger shoes and was quick to study and learn… so in secret, before anyone else knew of Evan’s father contracting the disease, Jayden convinced the man to let the Flare overtake him so that Jayden can study the effects. Evan’s father readily agreed, wanting to help the boy’s research so that maybe, a cure could be possible one day… without WCKD’s methods. 

After Evan’s father died… they were somehow found by WCKD, who had sent a Berg out to find this group of kids, especially once they learned of the work Evan’s parents had put in. Cyrus, being the eldest at 17, distracted WCKD soldiers long enough for the kids, 12 now (except Evan’s twin siblings, Avery and Aleksandr, who were 15), to escape. Avery and Aleksandr led them along until they stumbled upon a small military encampment who took them in.

There they met Lukas, Hayden, and Xavier, the latter two learning the scientific aspects of the Flare at the camp. Jordan and Jayden joined them, learning what the military scientists had discovered that may have slipped over the youngers’ heads before. 

The camp was overrun by cranks a year and a half later, and the kids were sent off by everyone, more knowledge in their hands, having to once again leave behind people important to them, Aleksandr and Avery this time. 

The group of now 13 years olds travelled far, anytime they thought WCKD was close, they moved on. They never stayed in the same place for long, learning the ways of survival through the years as they went from place to place, different methods to dodge cranks and new methods to analyze the Flare. 

As they moved, they learned. 

Soon enough, new leadership came to WCKD and they stopped chasing their group. They were invited to WCKD headquarters to share their research, give the WCKD scientists an idea into what they’ve learned. Jordan and Jayden agreed to go and they learned even more. 

But when they found out what WCKD was doing to immune kids, kids their age, they stole some of the created serum and medical equipment that would help their own research even more. They became wanted by WCKD for their knowledge but the group hid for years, knowing how to keep out of sight. They conducted research into cranks more readily, hurrying to find some form of cure that could stop WCKD’s plans to torture kids. 

But they were only kids themselves. 

During one of their crank experiments with their own serum, it got loose. Hayden and Xavier had been the only ones around at that time and Lukas had gone into the lab to try and help them. Each one of them had not been immune and fell to the Flare virus. Jayden didn’t have the heart to study their bodies and for awhile, they stopped carting cranks to them to run tests on. Losing three of their own hit hard.

Around a year later, when Jayden and Jordan finally decided to bring back crank test subjects, Evan, Raphael, Mason, and Jason-- the ones who always went out-- ran into Rachel and Alice, who had been searching for something to help their friend. 

Suspicious of it, the group of four stalked the two girls back to their hideout where two boys waited, one with a severely wounded hand, the hand was missing. They learned of what happened, how Jamie, the wounded boy, had gotten bit on the hand by a crank, and fearing the worst, Braydon amputated his hand impulsively. The wound got infected and the girls had been searching for any sort of antibiotics. 

Evan, with his gentle heart, invited them back to their base of operations, where Jordan patched up Jamie’s hand as best they could. While Jayden had taken to the more research aspect of science, Jordan found that his heart belonged in the more medical aspect of science. He became their unofficial doctor and handled all wounds. Rachel and Jamie both tested positive for being immune but Braydon and Alice were not, a fact they kept from the four, so Braydon wouldn't beat himself up over doing something that could have killed Jamie more than the Flare ever could.

A few months later, the group of four settling in, two more boys stumbled across them. These boys were actually known by Jamie and Braydon, one having grown up with Braydon and the other having once followed Jamie around like a dog. Byron and Nikos joined their group, adding to the repertoire of skills the group had. 

It was when Evan turned 16 that things took a turn for the worse. Evan contracted the Flare virus that was only stayed by the serums they had originally stolen from WCKD and adapted from. They worked well despite being incomplete, but the effects were starting to dampen as Evan had to take more and more to halt the spread of disease. Everyone was worried and desperate to find a cure quicker than ever now, especially since WCKD had been run out of the Last City and their serum was gone. 

They were running out of time to find a fix. 

  
  
  


The blond sat quietly on the cold table, flinching when the brunet turned around too fast. The brunet hummed, apologizing as he took Newt’s wrist. “I’m just gonna draw some more blood, okay Newt?” Newt nodded silently, watching with wide eyes as the needle went into a dark vein. 

The procedure was over fairly quickly and Jordan rubbed at the blond’s wrist softly to stiffen the vein back up before wrapping it with a bandage. Jordan hummed merrily, the noise relaxing Newt ever so gradually. When the brunet’s humming cut off, Newt tensed warily, not taking his eyes away from the hand that held his wrist. 

A thumb brushed softly at the bottom of the bandage. “Do you remember anything else Newt? Anything at all?” 

And Newt shook his head, like he has the other times they’ve asked him. He doesn’t remember anything. He’s tried… but he  _ can’t _ . He doesn’t know why he can’t remember. He doesn’t know why his veins are all black. He doesn’t know where he came from or what he’s doing here. He doesn’t know anything! 

_ “Please Tommy… please _ …”

Newt flinched, shoulders scrunching to his ears and he glanced all around. Jordan’s hand tightened on his wrist and it drew the blond’s attention back to him. “What is it Newt?” 

“I-I…  _ heard _ some-something…” he stuttered in reply. He doesn’t understand. What was that? 

_ “Tommy…” _

Newt flinched again, eyes going all around the room again. Jordan stroked down his wrist softly, waiting for the blond to calm down. Taking a deep breath, Newt looked into soft amber eyes and asked quietly. “Do I know a Tommy?” 

Jordan’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open silently. He took a moment to compose himself before answering just as quiet as Newt had. “We don’t know a Tommy but maybe before we found you…”

Newt’s gaze fell to the floor. He hadn’t been told how he was found by this group, only that they had found him and brought him back because he had a disease. A disease that was supposed to be killing him but wasn’t. 

“Hey now…” Jordan scolded softly, lifting Newt’s chin up so they could share eye contact. “Why don’t you go take a shower, kay? You’ll feel much better after one. We’ll do more testing after you’ve rested a bit, kay?” Newt nodded, letting the brunet pull him off the table and lead him to where the showers were. He had been in them once before, a few hours after he had first woken up, having been helped to clean the grime off him. 

He hadn’t told anyone that he scrubbed himself raw where the black veins stood prominently out of his pale skin. He didn’t know why… but he didn’t want them there. Even if they were supposedly protecting him. 

It only took a few minutes for Newt to get into the available shower and when he was under the stream of water, he wanted to stay there forever. He felt at ease beneath the stream and he had no idea why. Maybe because he got to escape from all the questions and tests the two twins wanted to run. 

Apparently he was an anomaly to them. 

_ He was done. He was sick of this place. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He was  _ **_tired_ ** _ of being a puppet for people that watched them in a glass bowl. He was  _ **_sick_ ** _ of it! He didn’t care if Minho had come back with a new path. He didn’t  _ **_care_ ** _! He wanted  _ **_out_ ** _!  _

_ And suddenly, a rush of wind flew by him as he fell backwards.  _

Newt gasped, hands flying to the wall in front of him and he trembled harshly against it. He gulped in breaths of air roughly. What was that! What is happening! Are these memories? Is he remembering something? Why is he only getting flashes of emotions? Who is Minho? And Tommy? Why are they in his head! 

With shaky legs, Newt exited the shower, wrapping himself up in a large towel. He hated this. He hated not being able to remember. He felt weak with no memories… like..like he was useless. He’s no use if he can’t remember. 

He’s…  _ nothing _ if he can’t remember. 

He stumbled to a bench that had folded clothes on top it. Jordan must have put them there. Jordan was the nicer one of the twins, always making sure Newt was comfortable. He hadn’t seen much of the others outside the brunet twins, hardly any glimpses since the first time he woke up. He felt unwelcome here. That he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. 

That he was nothing but a burden to them. 

_ “A Greenie is the newest kid outta the box Chuck.” _

Newt gasped loudly, leaning over and cradling his head in his hands. These memories hurt! Who were these people! Did it hurt because they were evil? Were they apart of WCKD like Jordan and Jayden have said? Was his mind forcing away bad memories to protect him? Are all these people he remembers people that  _ hurt _ him? He doesn't understand! 

  
  
  


With little time later and no painful memories showing up again, Newt made his way back to the lab where he’s been taken care of the past few days. Inside Jayden and Jordan stood beside the table he normally sat on. 

Their conversation halted when he entered the room and they both turned to look at him. Jordan beamed happily at him and Jayden pursed his lips. Before they could say anything, Newt brought up the names he remembered. 

“Who are Minho and Chuck?”

Jayden’s eyes widened slightly before he steeled himself and cleared his throat. “They are probably people from your past.”

“Why does it hurt to remember?” 

Newt watched as the elder twins eyes shut and he sighed. “I’m not… entirely sure Newt. It could be your mind protecting you from painful memories or from trauma that came from those memories. Or it could just be because your mind doesn’t  _ want _ you to remember.” 

“But I’m not  _ trying _ to remember! If it hurts this bad then why would I  _ want _ to remember!” Newt shouted, desperate for answers. He wanted to know how to stop this. He didn’t want to remember anything anymore. 

Jayden and Jordan shared a look before Jayden was patting the table. “Come and sit.” Newt scrunched his shoulders to his ears and walked to them docilely. He sat on the table and stared at the ground. Hands grabbed his wrist, the one that wasn’t bandaged, and he watched as a syringe filled with black liquid came into sight. 

Jayden started speaking mechanically, pressing his thumb into Newt’s wrist, even if he didn’t need the veins to rise to get a clear view of them. “The test we’re trying today is to see if the old Flare virus has any affect on you. I have already tested it on some of your blood and nothing reacted so it should be safe. But I wanted to test to make sure.”

Newt nodded, not really understanding. Jayden pushed the syringe into an already dark vein and pressed the plunger down slowly. Newt watched as his vein steadily grew darker, trailing up his arm before the color faded to his skin color before returning to black. 

Jayden hummed and turned around, writing something on the paper that lay on the table behind him. “Alright, next well try a serum that WCKD had developed to stay the virus.” Jordan handed him another syringe, this one filled with blue liquid. He once again took hold of Newt’s wrist and thumbed at the veins. He pushed the syringe in and pressed the plunger. 

Instead of his veins growing darker… they almost seemed to go completely white a few inches from the entry point. The white was halted and immediately dissipated by black. Newt grunted in pain and clenched his hand into a fist. His wrist stung. It was stinging with pain. An abrasive pain that Newt doesn't think he's ever felt before.

Jayden’s brows were furrowed and he mumbled underneath his breath, turning to write something down. 

The lightheadedness hit Newt like a truck. His vision became blurry in a manner of seconds and he could feel himself falling backwards but he was unable to stop himself. He heard Jordan gasp and shout his name and could even feel the callused hands catch him, but his muscles were numb and he felt as if cotton was in his throat. 

His name was called several more times, Jordan and Jayden’s faces swaying into few but all Newt could do was welcome the dark reprieve falling unconscious gave him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I bring more science... and also a look into the other side of things. A look into the mind of our favorite dumbass Thomas. We get to see what it's like in Paradise... at the Safe Haven. Vince is such a Dad™ and I really do love his character. I was a bit nervous writing Brenda because female characters are 100% not my strong point. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy![Come](http://rutaaabaga.tumblr.com) yell at me or ask any questions you have about this world I've created.
> 
> WARNING: REFERENCE TO SUICIDE/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

“Alright, we won’t force everyone to do something just now, but in order to keep everything calm and organized,” Vince began, standing in front of the semicircle of immune children and Right Arm members, “everyone needs to do their part. We all need to work together to make this work.”

He spoke a bit longer explaining the several different jobs that would need to be handled and taken care of. Thomas tuned him out. It reminded him of when he first got to the Glade. When he was taken around to every available job, to try them out, find out where he best fit. Where he met the people he came to love as friends and family. 

The same friends and family that aren’t in paradise with them.

Thomas sucked in a breath, eyes falling shut. His fingers threaded together and he dug his nails into the backs of his hands. He didn’t want to be here right now. He had to get away. Be alone. This was suffocating. 

All of a sudden, a hand was clapping on his shoulder and when Thomas looked up his breath caught. Vince was standing above him, understanding clear on his face. He gripped Thomas’ shoulder tightly, grounding the boy. “Take your time Thomas. Do what you need to.” 

The boy nodded, eyes turning downwards again. Another hand clapped on his back and Thomas could feel Minho’s presence beside him. “I’m heading out with Vince to scope the area… there’s a lot of this island we haven’t seen before.” Looking to his right, Thomas hummed at Minho, not feeling up to speaking. Minho stared at him for a few moments. “You need me to stay with you?” 

A sad smile spread Thomas’ lips and he shook his head. “Thanks Minho… but I’ll be fine. I just… want to be alone.” 

Minho’s arm dropped around Thomas’ waist and he hugged him tightly, before standing. “Alright, just don’t stay in your head too long Greenie.” 

And with that, Thomas sat alone. After a few minutes of feeling numb, he stood up and started walking down towards the sandy beach. He ignored the feeling of being watched, it was a constant presence to him ever since he woke up. The people here… they looked up to him for some reason. They looked up to him… even though he got two of his best friends killed. 

He didn’t understand how they could so easily forget that. 

  
  
  


He walked for what seemed like hours, meandering down the beach mindlessly. He had taken off his shoes when he first hit the beach, not wanting sand to get everywhere. He enjoyed the feel of the soft grains between his toes… it made him feel something besides the painful numbness in his chest. 

It was often that he walked this path, walked down the beach and stared across the vast water they travelled to get here. His mind always managed to wander to what became of the Last City. What had happened to it exactly. They left when everything was such a mess, he didn’t know if it would still be standing. 

If their bodies still lay in the places they fell. 

Shaking his head, Thomas sucked in a heavy breath. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t count how many times Minho and Frypan often told him to not think that way. They were always quick to remind him that their friends made their own choices, that they lived the lives they wanted to. Minho and Thomas had had a long talk a few days after Thomas first woke up. They had needed one to throw the tension from the air. 

The tension of them both blaming themselves. The anger they felt at themselves of not being fast enough, not being careful enough, of not telling Newt,  _ no you need to stay here _ . They both blamed themselves and it eventually blew up on them and the only way to clear the air was to talk it out. That was one of the worst days for Thomas. 

But it had been getting better. Sure, there were days when Thomas felt that he could not go on. That he wanted to join them all; Newt, Teresa, Chuck, Alby, all of the Gladers on that memory stone. But most days, he was reminded of the good things. Of Frypan’s stew, of Brenda coming into his hut to wake him up with a swimming proposition, of Minho being a firm presence at his back, of Vince never forcing any of them into doing something that could bring back harsh memories. 

It was often that he reread parts of Newt’s note, of his last letter. It made him remember. Remember the things which he did not want to forget. He had even started saying the Gladers’ names aloud before bed too and he found that it helped with the nightmares. That when he called on their names, he earned their protection from terrors that plagued his dreams. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this. 

Something hit his feet and he was forced to a halt, staring down at a black and white ball. His name was exclaimed happily and a group of kids was rushing up to him. 

“Tom-Tom! Can you play with us!” One of the kids screamed, coming to a stop before him, kicking sand as he went. The kid was Lucas, one of the younger kids that they rescued from the train car when searching for Minho. 

His heart ached at the nickname, so close to what Teresa called him. But he couldn’t turn these kids down. There were so few that were young enough to forget the pain they went through, too young to even understand the half of what had happened to them. Despite the pain in his chest and the despair in his head, he could not refuse their happiness, he  _ wouldn’t _ refuse their happiness. They had been screwed over by WCKD too. 

“...Sure,” came his reply and immediately the kids shouted in joy and excitement. They circled around him, pushing each other and laughing. Each of them didn’t wear shoes, Each pair in a pile up at the top of where the beach began. A blond kid took the ball and kicked it away from Thomas, causing several other kids to chase after. It was kicked back to Thomas and he let a small smile grace his face. He kicked it back and the kids giggled, screeching as he began running after them, tossing his shoes to the side. 

Above them, standing on the ledge where grass meets sand, three people stood, studying the playful atmosphere that was all over the beach. Brenda sighed softly, rubbing her arm. 

“It’s good to see him messing around again…” 

Frypan nodded in agreement, watching the scene with sad eyes. “His strength is immense for what we’ve been through. I don’t know if I would have agreed to play on one of my bad days.” Brenda patted his arm comfortingly, squeezing his bicep softly. 

“We all have our bad days, some of us more than others, but we’re all in this together. We can’t let any of us give in to the pain of losing our friends,” she said, glancing to the two boys that stood beside her. Gally nodded, swallowing thickly. 

“...That’s what Newt would always tell us back in the Glade. He always emphasized that we were in it together, that we need to support each other because the Gladers were all we had,” he coughed, rubbing at his eyes briefly. “WCKD was shit but they did bring us together as a family.” 

“I think that’s one thing most of the Gladers could agree on,” Frypan laughed breathlessly, his throat tight with emotion. “We were a family that stuck together, even if things got bad those last few days.” 

Brenda watched them carefully, her heart breaking at their nostalgia. She didn’t understand their bond explicitly, but she knew what it was like to form family with people that aren't blood related. She had that bond with Jorge and with these boys that she has gotten so close to. She had felt that bond with them on more than one account, one of the sole reasons she helped them break back into WCKD and why she enlisted Jorge into helping her go after Thomas, Newt, and Frypan. 

She felt those ties to them. They were family to her and she would do anything for them. 

Brenda sighed lightly, spinning on her heel. “Welp, I better get back to helping with the gardens. They enlisted a bunch of kids to help out and none of them know anything about plowing fields.” Gally and Frypan chuckled, not taking their eyes away from the beach. She smiled softly, knowing that these boys--  _ her _ boys-- would be alright. 

  
  
  


Jayden heaved a breath before he launched forwards and screamed loudly, hands splaying out and knocking over everything on the metal table before him. Papers flew, empty beakers shattered to the floor, test tubes fell from their holders and broke apart, liquid coating the table. 

Harsh panting filled the room and Jayden clutched the table edges in his hands, fingers white with the force, eyes tightly closed together. If one had seen him, they would think he had contracted the Flare, the way he angrily panted and muttered to himself. He slammed his fists onto the table and growled out, the banging echoing around the room. He was frustrated. 

A hand fell against his and there was a comforting presence directly behind him. Arms wrapped around him and caged him in. A strong chest moved against his back and Jayden matched his breathing with it. It took only minutes before Jayden was straightening out and pushing Mason back. 

“...Sorry…” he muttered, angling his body to the larger man. Mason stood silent, his hand splayed across Jayden’s back. The brunet sighed, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Fuck.” 

Mason’s fingers tapped against Jayden’s back, silently asking what was wrong. Jayden let out a strangled screech, dragging his hands down his face. “This makes no  _ sense  _ Mason! The Flare is  _ nothing _ like a normal virus, it shouldn’t be able to mutate like this! It was  _ man made _ , its genetic code should have stayed the same!”

“You know that’s not right Jay,” came a cough from the doorway. Looking over, Jayden spotted Jamie, who was rubbing at the bandana that covered where his hand used to be. “WCKD created the Flare to control the population… then it mutated and became something they couldn’t control.” 

“But to change  _ this much _ … Jamie, that’s not possible. It completely rewrote its molecular biology from an epidemic to its own vaccine. That doesn’t just…  _ happen _ .”

Jamie walked in closer, Byron following right behind him. “The only natural virus that this can be linked to is the flu, which changed every season and had people always getting vaccinations. but it’s like you said, The Flare is  _ man made _ it doesn’t follow the natural disease properties.”

Jayden ran his hands through his hair roughly, pulling at his brown locks. “Jamie, I _fucking_ _know_ that okay?” He spun at the younger brunet, glaring hard, jaw clenched tightly. “But when there has been _no fucking signs_ in anyone else and I can’t even tell how it fucking changed-- _I’m out of options_!”

It was silent, awkwardness hanging in the air. A deep voice broke the tension, drawing everyone’s attention. “Then we need to bring back more cranks, right? We need to find out why this kid’s Flare changed. If it was something in his brain, or just the virus reacting.” Nikos leaned against in the open doorway, arms folded over his chest. 

Jayden shook his head. “Evan said no more. I wasn’t even supposed to take Newt.” 

“Yeah?” Nikos asked, stretching his neck, black hair falling over his forehead. “It’s too late for that. Cranks are nothing but test subjects now. WCKD killed those people and if there is some way that we can help them, then I say we take it. There isn’t any time left.” 

“ _ I know _ .” Jayden breathed, sinking back against Mason behind him. “The Flare is speeding up, it’s becoming more visible and more active. Denver’s destruction only catalyzed it.” He didn’t need to say who’s Flare it was. Each of them knew who Jayden was referring to. 

Jamie glanced between them all nervously, shifting on his feet. “Has anyone talked to Raph?” 

“Raph knows more about it than all of us.” 

  
  
  


Newt gulped, trying to swallow what felt like cotton in his throat. This was his fault. He was causing a rift between these people… between their family. He was an outlier to them, someone that they couldn’t trust to do anything but be tested on. He closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. Names ran through his head, his ritual of calming down. 

_ Chuck, Alby, Gally, Minho… Tommy… please I need to know who they are. Why are they so important to me that I can remember them so easily?  _

Pain flashed through Newt’s skull and suddenly he was aching all over. Agony stretched over his spine and he felt himself falling backwards, slamming into the hard floor. Pictures flashed over his vision; places, things, people,  _ names _ . Conversations flowed through his head and he couldn’t make out what any of them meant. Everything flowed together and blended. He could vaguely sense himself gasping breathlessly, arms hitting the ground uselessly. Blindly, he pressed his fingers into the floor, trying to get a sense of control. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, breaths coming too fast for him to catch up. 

Then, it was as if a calm flowed through him.The conversations and names halted abruptly and he could see a fire before him. There were people standing before the fire, in what seemed to be an argument. 

_ “I’m not leaving without Minho Vince!”  _

_ “You need to see reason! _ ” the reply came, shouting back just as loudly. It was an older man, long, dirty blond hair pulled into a ponytail, his beard and mustache unkempt and ragged.  _ “There are hundreds of people here now! We don’t have the resources to waste on going after  _ one _ man any longer!” _

The boy he was yelling at screamed familiar to Newt. His messy brown hair, the dirt covered skin, the subtle hints of growing facial hair. Newt  _ knew _ him. He was  _ important _ to him.  _ “Then take them and  _ go _ Vince. I’m not leaving without Minho.” _

_ “You’ll get yourself killed that way  _ Thomas.” 

Pain sprouted through Newt and a scream left him. That name, that  _ name _ . That was  _ Tommy _ .  _ Newt’s  _ Tommy. Conversations and scenes flew at Newt again and he clawed at his head. He felt hands prying his own away from his head and he fought them. There were several pairs of hands on him, all of them holding him down, prying his hands away from clawing at the pain in his head. 

Their voices were muddled in his head, unable to push past the force of the memories flying through his mind. He could feel his mouth moving but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. The pain flourished as the memories persisted, pushing and pushing and pushing--

Something pricked his neck and there was a sudden coolness rushing into his veins. The visions became blurry and his sight slowly darkened. His mouth fell shut and just before his eyes closed off he could see the group of people he had been listening to earlier come into sight. He was relieved to feel the pain gone. 

  
  
  


“What the hell was that?” Nikos growled, sitting back on his heels and glaring at Jayden. “I thought you said he wasn't a crank. That sure as hell looked like a crank, it even sounded like one.” 

Jayden huffed, removing the needle from Newt’s neck. “He’s not a crank Nikos. Cranks don’t have his level of control. Even then that wasn’t normal crank behavior, clawing at himself and muttering what he did.” He handed the syringe to Mason and pressed his fingers against Newt’s neck, checking for a pulse and hoping it calmed down with the sedative. 

Jamie sighed, leaning back against Byron. “What did he say before he passed out? I heard something about an island… something faraway.”

“We shouldn’t listen to what a delirious person says beautiful,” Nikos replied, crossing his arms and sitting on the floor. 

“But he also said Vince,” Byron interjected. “It may not be the same Vince but I know there was a group… They tried to get us to join up with them once Nikos.” 

“You mean that Right Arm freak Mary? The one that sent a Vince after us when we tried to leave because we didn’t want to be apart of her weird ass harvesting?” 

Byron sighed grumpily, resting his head against Jamie’s. “They were all consenting to do that Nikos and you know it. None of those kids were there against their will.”

“She can still fuck off though.” 

Silence rained down again. Only the soft pants of Newt’s slowly calming breaths could be heard. Byron took another breath and continued his previous thought. “Vince said at the time, that they were searching for a safe place. Somewhere untouched by cranks. He told us that there were rumors of a place across the ocean. A place to be called paradise.” 

“Rumors aren’t always true Byron.”

“But Newt said something like it just now,” Jamie interrupted. “We’ve never tried looking for somewhere else, an island or something. It could be possible…” he trailed off glancing back to Newt. “From all the maps we find, there is that one island so far off the coast, it could be a possibility.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one has a bunch of science involved, like the entire last half of the chapter is basically science where I explain my own thought process about what the Flare does and how it acts. I'm actually amazed at how basic I managed to keep the science terms, instead of going in depth with terms that only other science majors would understand. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

There was a slight buzzing in his ear, the only sound he could hear. His eyes slowly opened and he was blinded by a brightness. Darkness reigned in his vision once again and he tried to move his hands. His wrists were bound tightly to whatever he was laying on and he couldn’t move them. His head rolled and he could feel a cough bubbling in his throat, wetness of it falling across his lips as he turned his head to the side. 

Something touched his forehead softly, a cold compress that chilled his fevered head. He tried to open his eyes again but was only met with a white blindness, head rolling to escape it. His ears rang sharply but he could hear a soft shushing noise, followed by a quiet groaning that he recognized as his own. 

The ringing slowly fell away and he could hear soft humming, a song that felt vaguely familiar to Newt but he couldn’t place. It was a comforting melody… one he felt like he hasn’t heard in a long time. Like it came from  _ before _ …  _ before _ his memories were lost. 

Something laid over his eyes and he carefully opened them, seeing something hang over his eyes. Bright light haloed around it and Newt could barely make out fingers resting above his sight. He squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust before he glanced to the side, seeing a dark shirt. The humming gradually faded out and a hand moved to thread through Newts hair. 

“Feelin’ better kiddo?” 

Newt gasped a breath and tried to turn his head farther but the hand in his hair stayed his movements. He coughed violently, breathing became wet and difficult, like he was breathing around thick mucus buried in his chest. 

“Hey, hey,” the rough voice sounded again, hoarse and scratchy as if it hasn’t been used in a while. “Calm down hun, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen. You passed out pretty rough. Memories comin’ back rougher an’ rougher.” 

“...wha...”

The shushing noise was heard again and the hand carded through blond locks. “No need to speak if you ain’t feelin’ it hun.” The hand moved from his eyes and Newt carefully looked to the side, seeing someone’s arm he didn’t recognize immediately. “E’eryone’s too busy tryna figure out some tests so ya will be stuck with me fer now.” 

The gravelly voice was comforting despite its tone. Looking to his side, Newt could see the person sitting just above his shoulder, hands reaching to press the cold compress to his forehead and thread fingers through his hair. From his position he couldn’t tell if they were male or female, but judging by the voice they were male. 

There was a loud banging noise and a strangled groan left Newt, eyes closing tightly as his ears began to ring again. The person sitting by him growled and shouted, “Watch ya noise you idiot! Not e’eryone can handle ya dumbass shit!” 

“Ray your yelling can't have helped either,” came the reply, soft and high, so blaringly feminine that it was sweet to Newt’s ears. The ringing slowly dissipated and he carefully opened his eyes, squinting towards the door and spotting a short brunette girl walking towards where he lay. As she neared, she looked at Newt softly, a small smile spreading her lips. “My apologies Newt, I had forgotten you were here with her.”

The person above him snorted and Newt was confused. This person with the rough voice was a girl? Maybe he was hearing things? 

“Aw Al, I was havin’ fun watchin’ his expressions as he tried to figure if I was a girl or boy.” The girl before him shook her head but smiled lightly, rolling her eyes and coming closer. 

“Memories still bugging you hun?” she asked. She reminded Newt of someone. He couldn’t remember who but a face flashed in his mind, the first one that didn’t come with a name. “Want some help with that?” 

Newt flinched and looked at her curiously. “How can you… help?” he coughed as he finished asking, his throat incredibly dry. His head was forced up by pressure on the back of his skull and something found its way beneath his lips. He was given water and the refreshing taste was so rare and wanted that Newt readily drank it down-- wanting to soothe his aching throat. 

The girl nodded, smiling softly at him. “I had a brother, that… when he got the Flare, we got our hands on Bliss, a kind of serum that WCKD gave out that didn’t work the best, but still held the Flare’s effects at bay, kind of… made the pain less.” She stepped closer and perched on the edge of the table Newt laid on, hands moving to rest on Newt’s bound wrists, applying soft pressure and untying him. “Except… Bliss reacted poorly to something in Nate’s system and after every dose we gave him… he would forget everything. He’d lose his memories that would come back in painful flashes. It would happen at the worst of times so me and Ray came up with a way to help, made it easier to handle the pain.” 

“Ya don’t gotta accept or nothin’ hun. Just thought we’d offer.” 

Newt looked at them, brows furrowing as he studied the two girls. He didn’t know them personally… he didn’t really know their full names either. But… he felt drawn to them, they reminded him so much of people he couldn’t remember. Their presences’ strong and fierce to his subconscious. They were people that he felt he had known forever, or at least some form of what his subconscious remembers. 

These girls reminded him of what he had to comfort him before. 

While spacing out, Newt found himself nodding. The girls moved slowly, carefully sitting him up, Ray taking a seat behind him, Al sitting cross legged before him. He was pulled against Ray’s soft chest and Al took his hand, carefully trailing her fingers over his palm, tracing invisible lines that didn’t follow his black veins. 

Behind him, Ray’s chest rumbled as she spoke, breath brushing over his ear softly. “Almost forgot but I’m Rachel and that’s Alice, the love of my life.” 

Alice laughed, brushing a stray brown hair behind her ear. “You always introduce us that way love.”

“Cause it’s true Al.” 

  
  
  


“And you let Ray stay there with him… by  _ herself _ ?” 

Nikos scoffed, waving a hand at the short scientist. “If you think for one second I would have told her no then you are dead ass wrong. She’s terrifying.” 

“She’s one of the most reasonable people here Nikos,” Jamie said, raising his eyebrow. 

“I know that beautiful, but you didn’t see her when Alice had been taken that one time, I thought  _ I _ was going to lose my life.” 

Raphael snorted from across the room, rubbing slow circles in Evan’s arm, massaging the area covered in black veins. “S’only cause she founda sword ta swing.” 

“She fucking took someone’s  _ head _ off,” Nikos hissed. 

“Would y’all shut it?” Jayden sighed. “This is not why we are here.”

“Oh right,” Nikos began, leaning against a table behind him, arms folded over his broad chest. “We’re here to discuss that Crank in there that you seem so keen on keeping around.” His arms bulged with muscle, only more defined by the tight t-shirt he wore. His black hair was fluffed up, a perpetual bedhead state despite how sweaty they got in the Scorch. 

Jayden huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No we are not Nikos.”

From the back of the room came Evan’s soft tenor voice. “Cut it out Nikos.” The Latino grumbled, glancing to the floor, thick eyebrows furrowed on his brow. Jayden glanced to his friend, only seeing Evan’s short blond hair laying flat, resting away from them on Raphael’s shoulder. The larger man’s dirty blond hair was pulled from his face in a small ponytail, his head resting against the shorter’s. 

Jayden’s heart ached seeing his oldest friend have to go through this. They were running out of time. The Serum wasn’t working as well as it used to and it has always just been prolonging the inevitable. He needed to find a cure, find why Newt’s Flare changed so drastically. 

“Despite Nikos’ inability to think of Newt as a human… from every test I’ve run… he’s perfectly normal except for the Flare running through his veins,” Jayden began, biting his cheek before he continued. “We all know that the Flare is parasitic in nature, that it needs a host to thrive-- it’s common knowledge among anyone that decides to study this disease. From what I can tell… the Flare slowly gets an immunity to the Serum WCKD has produced through enzymes from Immunes. How they got these enzymes I’ll never know but depending on the strength of the Immune the longer lasting the Serum. 

“Newt, I’m not sure how long he has been alive with not being Immune. He was found alone and for all I know he could have been a Crank for years before something tried to stop his heart. The most logical way I can find an explanation for this, is that the Flare parasite, since it needs a host to function, follows the biological standpoints that any organism does-- live and reproduce. Without a host the Flare would die off. It takes home in a person’s brain and buries into the Frontal lobe, branching to the Temporal lobe, Sensory cortex, and Motor cortex. As it gains more control of its host the Flare moves down to the Cerebellum, where it begins to make its way down through the nerves and into the bloodstream.”

Jayden took a breath, glancing around the room at his friends, his family. “When the Flare is in the bloodstream, it makes quick work to dispose of the host’s white blood cells, the eosinophil, attacking the last line of defense the body has against it. Thus causing the parasitic cells of the Flare to mold with the host’s blood and take control of the regulatory patterns of the heart beating and producing blood through the host-- this is what causes the Cranks to move how they do, to be so inhuman like with uncanny strength. After this, the parasitic cells travel throughout the bloodstream and infect healthy cells, eventually turning every part of the veins black. 

“The black liquid that ends up being secreted from open orifices in a Crank’s body is leftover fluid from the bloodstream that is seeping through the lung capillaries and is exhaled through every breath, much like when a person is shot in the lung and blood pours into that open cavity. As this happens, the parasitic cells spreading throughout the body, the central point of the Flare that is in the Frontal lobe begins to branch out to the Parietal and Occipital lobes, affecting how a person acts and how they perceive social cues. Their vision and hearing can begin failing the host, causing the black fluid to fill the ears and seep into the optic nerve, beginning to dye the eye’s vitreous gel black before it completely covers the eye like a dark cloud.”

Jayden sighed, rubbing his forehead. “This has happened the same way in every single person and Crank that I have run tests on and observed. The only difference being in the victims who were bit, the Flare is quicker in this case because it gets a head start on the bloodstream. Everyone has the Flare essentially, although it may be inactive in most people, a catalyst being severe stress or fear, harsh emotions that can cause harm to others,” he paused, glancing around the room again. 

His eyes met Jamie’s, the only other one that had a little bit of scientific knowledge besides Jordan, and that was only because the faction he grew up in believed that everything would be fine and got school teachers to let the kids learn and live partially normal lives. Jamie was leaning against Byron, who sat on a pristine metal table beside Nikos. He cradled his left wrist against his stomach, a glazed look in his eyes, probably remembering the time he had been bitten by a Crank, a time before he knew what Immunes were. His honey colored hair was tucked behind his ears, strands falling over his gray eyes. One of Byron’s arms was behind Jamie’s back, hand curling around his waist. His dark brown, almost black hair cropped short to his head, deep blue eyes watching Jayden with his normal bored expression. 

Jayden cleared his throat and continued. “Because Newt is a special case, something I’ve never seen before, and he has no memories of what happened to him before… I can’t even begin to speculate why his Flare is so different. If his Flare reacted to the Serum to result in this or if it was something else entirely. And I don't think I’ll ever get a proper answer if we can’t get Newt to remember.”

On the left side of the room Jason hummed, his reddish hair longer than his twin brother’s and a lighter shade. “So everything about Newt is a mystery at this point then?” Jayden met his shiny green eyes and nodded, biting his lip as he glance at Mason that stood beside his brother. 

A scoff came from the table Jayden leaned against and he turned to look at Braydon, who was resting his forearms on the table and leaning against it. He breathed up and flicked his platinum bangs out of his face, hazel eyes staring at Jayden. “Kid told us where to go to get answers.” 

“We aren’t listening to some kid’s word!” Nikos snarled, leaning forwards but not moving from his position otherwise. “He’s an amnesiac and we’re better off here than somewhere that could get us killed!” 

“But what if they have what we need Nikos,” Jamie spoke up. Jayden looked to him and saw grim determination set in. “Evan won’t last much longer like this and we can’t…”

“Look beautiful,” Nikos began, standing straight and glaring at Jamie. “We all know Evan won’t make it another few months. He’s on the last runs of the Serum, which stopped working a long time ago. He’s told us countless times he’s going to die. It’s time we accept that.” 

Silence reigned upon them. Everyone had known it, for so long, especially when their pseudo leader had started the wet coughs, seeing black veins spread over his body. He was much quicker to anger and was often found spacing out. They had all known it, but no one had wanted to accept it. 

This was the first time they were forced to acknowledge it for what it is. 

Despite each of them wanting to say something, Evan coughed and spoke loud, voice echoing around the room. “Stop playin’ the denial card.”

“Ev--” 

“No Jordan. That’s enough,” Evan stated, pulling away from Raphael and walking closer to where they were. “Ever since we found out I wasn’t Immune we knew this was coming. Stop. Denying. It.”

There was an abrupt sob from behind Jayden and he swung around, seeing Jordan with tears streaming down his face. Despite this, he had a glare matched with Evan’s, the two in a standoff. 

“I never once denied it Evan,” Jordan began, hands clenched into tight fists. “But you saying that, saying you've accepted death already… it’s like you've already  _ given up _ . And I will  _ never _ accept that.” And he abruptly turned from them and left, slamming the door in his wake. 

They were silent for several minutes after that. 

Raphael sighed heavily and walked up behind Evan, trailing his hand along Evan’s back. He pressed a kiss to the shorter’s head and walked out after Jordan. Everyone avoided each other’s eyes but then Jamie spoke up, voice pounding in their heads. 

“If we have a chance to find somewhere safe… I think we should take it. Even if going to this place won’t heal Evan, it would be safer for us all to find somewhere that is away from the Scorch.” He looked to Byron, the two sharing a look. “We’ve been looking at old maps. There was an island south of what used to be California, a place called Hawaii. It’s so far off from mainland and just surrounded by ocean that it’s possible the harsh conditions of ocean storms kept the Flare from reaching there.” 

“But WCKD spread the Flare all over,” Jayden rebutted, eyebrow raising. They all knew that WCKD had spread the Flare to every country that still held survivors from the Solar Flares. They sent Bergs all over the world to smaller factions that had no one important to offer. 

“Remember when they first started spreading the Flare?” Jamie asked. Jayden’s eyebrows furrowed and he scowled at Jamie. “They mostly sent it around in the United States because that’s where Bergs were most capable of reaching. Bergs can’t have travelled to Europe and Asia unless they were transported in large cargo planes. Bergs don’t have the capacity to fly long distances over the kind of weather that happens over an ocean.They aren’t made to fly at super high altitudes either.” 

“I suggest that something happened in those islands that caused WCKD to think it wasn’t necessary to check on them,” Byron interjected. “I know from some old geography classes that our faction made us take that volcanoes were all over the place, that the Solar Flares reacted badly with them and caused a lot of dormant volcanoes to erupt and that helped take out so much landscape that made it unlivable.”

Jamie nodded. “Hawaii had been full of volcanoes… so what if they erupted and made WCKD not worry?” 

“Then wouldn’t that land be bad now? Since the volcanoes destroyed it?” Braydon questioned, standing from leaning on the table. 

“That’s the thing… if volcanoes on Hawaii erupted… they could have given off so much thick smoke that the Solar Flares couldn’t reach the other islands so close to the biggest island,” Jamie explained. “It’s the only way that I could think of that would make an island be safe from the Flare and cranks, that it would still be habitable.” He looked over to Evan, voice dropping to just above a whisper. “I think it’s worth checking out.”

Jason huffed, arms folding over his chest. “And how do you suppose we get there? Berg’s can’t fly that long and there isn’t anywhere to refuel in the ocean.” 

“There might… be a way…” Nikos cut in. Looks of disbelief were thrown his way but he shook his head. “It’s a stretch but… I know in the Scorch, Byron and I hid some old Bergs that we ransacked from what looked like an abandoned WCKD facility. There might be a way… to  _ fuse _ Bergs together… let them feed off each other.”

Braydon nodded, hand on his chin, a far off look in his eyes. “And a lot of factions resorted to solar panels as power units. We could find some and hook them to the Bergs so we don't need as much fuel.” 

Evan sighed, drawing Jayden’s gaze back to him. He rolled his eyes but looked at them fondly. “Y’all do what you want… I’ll go along with it. Just don't get your hopes us too much.” Jason let out a cheer and was the first over to the short blond’s side, ruffling his hair and hugging him. It was a matter of seconds before everyone else joined the hug, maybe holding on longer than necessary. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever get those chapters that just... don't do what you want them to? Yeah? Well that was this chapter. I had so much written but it was so poorly done that I scrapped it and even now I'm not the happiest with it. Sorry if the latter half of the chapter seems choppy. I think some real life stuff got the best of me and it blocked off my inspiration. 
> 
> WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT

Minho stood quietly, heart steadily beating in his chest, vastly different from minutes before when he first rushed out here. He stood on a cliff overhanging the beach, the grass wet and soft beneath his bare feet. Drops of water fell from the sky slowly, small specs that sprinkled on his bare skin. 

He had woken up minutes ago from a nightmare, a dark and deep thing that haunts his mind even in the daylight. WCKD’s torture for their damn dysfunctional serum fucked with his mind. His subconscious thoughts were plagued by visions he saw while captured and it  _ broke _ him. He couldn’t escape from the images.

Not having Newt there only worsened it. 

Back in the Glade Newt had always been a constant. He was there beside Minho through thick and thin and he understood the dangers of the Maze. He had been with Minho since the beginning and was _ always _ there, a constant comforting presence that Minho relied on. But because of WCKD, because of  _ them _ , his one constant… is gone. 

His heart ached in his chest and he could feel the physical pain just as much as emotional. Vince had said that the pain would ease, that it just takes time. Minho didn’t think it was that easy. 

He had known Newt for three years, the closest he can ever get to the beginning of his memories. And from what he overheard while being held, they knew each other long before the Maze was even constructed. That they had gravitated to one another from the start, when they were first taken from their homes. Learning that only made his separation harder. 

It  _ hurt _ that Newt was taken from him so soon after they were just reunited. Newt, who deserved so much more than was given to him. He was the strongest person Minho knows, despite his hatred of the Maze and his heartache over it, he kept going forwards after that one attempt. He made sure he was there, made so much emphasis on being  _ together _ so no one would ever feel as he did. 

So no one would be as desperate as he was to take their own life. 

Newt deserved everything he could ever be given but he was forced to settle with saving Minho’s sorry ass from WCKD. He hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but Minho blamed himself. Especially since the Right Arm had been so close to finding Paradise. If Minho hadn’t been  _ fucking taken _ then they would have been in Paradise so much sooner. Newt wouldn’t have had the chance to catch this goddamn airborne virus and he would still be here.

A dry sob bubbled in Minho’s throat and he let his head fall back, releasing a strangled cry at the sky. Raindrops fell over his face and mimicked tears, tears that he should be shedding but had long since stopped. Years of being desensitized by losing so many Runners in the Maze made it impossible for him to cry-- another thing WCKD took from him. 

His head fell and he looked out over the beach, clouded by the dark sky, the water calm despite the brewing storm. It was quiet except for the pitter patter of rain falling, steadily gaining momentum with each minute that passed. 

Minho felt hopeless. He felt empty. He didn’t know what to do or how to go on. Days trudged by and he hated being here. It was everything they ever wanted but so reminiscent of the Glade that he found himself thinking Newt was around anywhere he turned. And when he wasn’t… he was just filled with a deep longing and sadness that he couldn’t fix. 

Feeling overcome with self loathing and just pure unadulterated sadness, he took a step forwards, gaze still towards the ocean. Maybe if he just stepped from here it would all be gone. If he just fell then he wouldn’t have to feel this way and he could see Newt again. See his best friend. See the one person that Minho would love and know like family more than anyone else. 

If he fell right now, with the darkness of night and the sound of rain, then no one could come and stop him. No one would be able to find him like he found Newt all that time ago. 

He was sluggish as he stepped forwards, eyes blank to the dark water. He didn’t want to do this anymore, to be wishing for something that would never come back. He could vaguely feel the ground get softer and more slippery as he neared the edge even more. Surprisingly… he felt numb.

He took one more step and felt nothing connect with his foot, fully prepared to join his best friend when something… a voice... rang out to him. 

_ “Thank you Minho… thank you.” _

The words thundered in his ears more than the rain ever could and he felt as if in slow motion as his body tipped forwards, beginning to fall to the rocks and flat land. His breath left him and he abruptly turned himself, twisting on the foot still barely touching the ground of the cliff. He used his spinning momentum to launch forwards and scramble against the slippery grass and mud. His legs kicked and buried into the side of the cliff, soft with rain water. He caught himself, fingers hurting with dirt lodged beneath his nails, clawing at the ground, bare feet freezing as he grappled for a perch to steady himself on the side of the cliff. 

He heart thundered in his chest and echoed in his ears. What the hell did he just try to do? Did he just try to take the life that Newt gave back to him? How could he think that? How could he throw away everything Newt risked himself for just because Minho was being a stupid son of a bitch and couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t handle the pain and sorrow he felt. 

Was this how Newt felt once upon a time? Did he feel so helpless in the Glade that he felt that urge to just let it all go? Minho had saved Newt at that time, brought him back to the Glade. And Newt had helped save him from WCKD. Was Minho really going to waste that chance to live happily for Newt? To live the best he can in honor of his friend? 

What was he  _ doing _ ?

Minho huffed and grunted, pulling himself back up on the cliff, sitting on his knees, head tilted to the sky. He screamed loudly, just as thunder rolled over the clouds, covering his frustrations with loud booming. He lurched forwards and bowed, curling into himself, forehead pressed into the ground. He yelled nonsense at it, grasping at the grass and beating his fists against the ground. 

He  _ hated _ this. He had to get himself together. They all couldn’t be a mess. Someone had to take the reins on themself and get everyone else on track. Thomas was already falling apart but Minho needed to be the stronger of the pair. He needed to get it together and not fall apart at every little thing that reminded him of Newt. 

He needed to not waste this chance Newt gave him. 

With one last, strangled cry, Minho carefully brought himself up, slowly standing and steeling his nerves. As he came back to himself he could feel the cold that was now chilling him to the bone. His toes burned and he could feel his skin prickle. He was soaked through his clothes, mud covering every inch of his front. He ignored it and made his way back to his hut that he helped Gally build a few nights ago when Vince had thought a storm was coming in. 

He wouldn’t do this again. He wouldn’t let himself, or anyone else fight themselves so much that they resort to something they shouldn’t. Minho would be better than this. He wouldn’t waste everything Newt has given him, he wouldn’t disappoint him. 

Newt didn’t deserve to be let down anymore. 

  
  
  


Newt heaved and immediately hands were all over him, soft comforting hands and harsh unforgiving ones. His heart burned in his chest and he could feel his head pounding. The voices speaking around him were muddled and ran together, nothing reaching his ears. 

Pain stung behind his eyes and through his head, following an invisible path through his brain and throughout his head, nerves stinging sharply and causing him to tense. 

Scenes flashed before his eyes quickly, coming to rest on a scene that Newt did not recognize at all. 

_ These guys had taken them, just  _ **_stolen_ ** _ them from their home. Killed their parents in cold blood and took them. A hand tightened on his own and he looked over. Lizzy, his baby sister. He remembered that these guys came for her first. That they only wanted her but grabbed him after murdering their parents.  _

_ He needed to be strong. He needed to stay in control for her. For his Lizzy, his little sister that was everything to him. He needed to not let this affect him. But it was hard when all he wanted to do was curl up and cry.  _

_ They were surrounded on all sides by these bloody bastards and there was no room for them to escape. He looked around the sides, seeing so many other kids barricaded by armored guards but his eyes caught on one that stared at him intensely.  _

_ This one was staring so sharply at him that it made the boy feel uncomfortable, made him twitch in his seat. Everything was so silent that it only intensified the staring until the other looked away, observing everyone else in the moving vehicle.  _

Newt gasped breathlessly, falling back against a soft chest that grabbed his arms tightly, massaging small circles into his upper arms. Soft air blew against his ear and it was suddenly quiet. He felt grounded by this person, their presence strong and comforting to him. It reminded him of… someone… someone from before.

Pain flashed against his head again and he flung his head backwards, slamming against a firm shoulder from the person holding him. 

_ “I got you Newt, I’ve got you.” He was against a firm chest, so much bigger than how he felt. He was cradled so carefully against Minho that it made him feel so angry at himself for letting the other find him that way. Minho didn’t deserve that. His chest rumbled with a reply, as if he read Newt’s mind. “Then don’t do it again you shank.” _

_ His legs felt numb but pain thrummed through him when they were jostled. He was limp against his friend’s chest as he tried his best to keep him stable as he ran through the Maze and back towards the gates.  _

_ He should have tried harder. Held his knife in his hand as he fell so he wouldn’t have to do this.  _

_ He was jostled roughly, causing him to cry out in [ain. “Whatever you’re thinking you stupid shank,  _ **_stop_ ** _.” Minho’s voice was thick with emotion and when Newt looked at his friend's face he could see his clenched jaw and anger clear in his face. “What you did was selfish and stupid and did you even  _ **_think_ ** _?” _

_ His voice broke at the end and Newt felt his heart clench. The worst thing was… he thought of this all day. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Everything was shucked to hell and he wanted out. He  _ **_hated_ ** _ this place. Everything about it felt wrong.  _

_ “Newt,” Minho’s voice cracked and broke Newt’s heart. “You can’t leave me too. I’ve seen too many get lost in this place but I can’t lose you.  _ **_Please_ ** _.” _

_ Newt kept silent. He hadn’t thought of it that way. That someone might need him. There were so many boys in the Glade that it seemed inevitable that everyone had someone else. He didn’t think he was needed. So many boys could take his place and it wouldn't even matter. He wasn’t needed.  _

_ Silence reigned upon them as Minho held Newt so carefully. His hands were strong where they carried Newt and it broke Newt’s heart.  _

_ “M’sorry Minho…” he spoke in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to bloody be here anymore. This Maze, the Glade, those shuckfaced bloody shanks that put us here. I bloody hate it. I want  _ **_out_ ** _. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so bloody sorry.” He curled his face into Minho’s shoulder, unshed tears prickling his eyes.  _

_ Minho’s grip tightened and he whispered so softly that Newt may have missed it if he wasn’t so close to his friend at this moment. “You have nothing to apologize for.”  _

His eyelids fluttered and he felt the pain receding. There was still fingers trailing over his upper arms, and a soft humming was in his ear. Someone was standing in front of him, speaking so softly and rhythmically that Newt focussed on their voice. 

A hand grasped his own and carefully trailed a fingertip along his palm, leaving a tingling in its wake. Newt focussed on the feeling, trying to get his thoughts in order. It was the same process Rachel and Alice had walked him through before, to focus on his senses to bring himself back. 

It went quicker than usual and he didn’t pass out this time, so he knew something was working. Slowly, he could feel himself coming back, feel his legs stabilize on the ground and he let himself rise from Rachel’s chest and firm hold. 

“Ya back with us hun?” the raspy voice sounded and he nodded. 

“I… sor--”

“None of that now Newt,” came Alice’s careful reply, her dark brown hair fluttering as she shook her head. “You don't need to apologize for losing yourself in your memories.”

He nodded, glancing around at the group that watched him. He could see Evan farther off with Raphael, their heads pressed together and whispering softly. His gaze swept over the others and he curled into himself at the glare Nikos was giving him. It wasn't the best time for memories to flood him, with traversing through the Scorch for something they had hidden away for the opportunity to arise. They had to stay alert in the Scorch, not give anything the chance to sneak up on them. 

There had been a big fight before they left the safety of their base. Jayden had wanted Evan to stay there so he wouldn’t make his Flare spread more, that he needed to stop trying to do everything and stay unstressed and lay down. Evan had yelled back and things blew up even more. Everyone had gotten involved and Newt was brought up and it filled the blond with heavy insecurity. 

He was right to think himself a nuisance to them. 

Hands grasped his shoulders and squeezed. “Don’t get too lost there hun,” Rachel said, her gravelly voice loud and overbearing, getting the attention of everyone around them. “What’d ya see this time?”

Newt cleared his throat, gaze falling to the floor. “I think… I remembered that I had a sister. And that… we were… were taken by WCKD…” he paused, glancing up. His eyes met Alice’s and she nodded for him to continue. He took a breath. “I remember being… in a maze. There were… a lot of boys and I think… my memory was gone before?” 

Jayden sucked in a breath. “They actually went through with it. WCKD  _ actually _ erased kids’ memories and stuck them in terrifying environments. I thought they would keep them confined at the very least… but  _ this _ . I…” He turned from them and walked in the opposite direction of Evan and Raphael. Jordan followed his brother, Jamie close behind. 

“Did I… do something…?” Newt asked. Nikos scoffed and turned away, arms folding over his chest. Alice shook her head and from behind him Rachel scolded Nikos. 

“No, Jayden has always just been… convinced WCKD isn't as bad as people have made it out to be. I mean, they were trying to find a cure, and he’s a man of science,” Alice answered. “He’s always wanted to think WCKD was trying everything they could to study the enzymes produced in immune children, to find out what made them immune. He didn't think they would lose their humanity entirely.” 

Newt nodded, glancing behind him, watching the brothers and Jamie argue quietly. A banging sound came in front of them when Newt looked around, Evan stood, the butt of the rifle he held sitting on a rusted barrel. “Let’s get a move on guys, we’re wasting time.”

  
  
  


They had only travelled for two days, but the group was full of tension, everyone seeing the effect being in the Scorch had on the not immunes. It even had an effect on the immunes. They were all running on fumes and agitation. Newt had only had one more memory episode, a memory of him walking through the Scorch once before. But other than that, everything had been calm. 

He had kept quiet of questions he had, not wanting to agitate the group further. They had been lucky to not run into big swarms of Cranks so far, but there was no telling when the next shouting match would draw the Gone to them. 

It was terrifying in a way. To be the reason any of them were willing to traverse this desert land, facing this intense heat, for something that he couldn’t even remember. That they were all willing to take a chance at mutterings he can barely remember saying. It gave them hope… and hope was dangerous in a world like this… when hope has been stomped on and ground into dust. 

It was amazing that any of them still had hope left to give. 

“Alright, let’s stop here,” Evan called. Newt was thankful, legs almost giving out on him as he crumpled to the ground in the rickety shack they stopped in. He wasn’t sure what was causing it, but his leg ached. He had been obviously limping for the last three hours as they walked through a sandy city, buildings falling apart, pieces all over the ground. He was grateful for the constant support of Rachel and Alice, both of them sticking behind with him, reminding him again of people he couldn't remember. 

He felt like a liability. That if they ran into a horde of cranks, he wouldn’t be able to keep up. That he would  _ drag _ down these people that had saved him. He didn't feel worth it. He was just an amnesiac after all… Nikos said it often enough. There had to be a reason that he was left in the place he was, cranked out, knife in his chest. And any reason he could come up with… it was all just bad. 

“Get outta ya head hun,” Rachel chuckled, hitting his knee as she sat down beside him. “I know that look on yer face and it ain’t good. No need to be thinkin’ those thoughts.” She offered him a biscuit, one of the few things that could be made and kept so well in this heat. 

He accepted it with a small quirk of the lips, feeling nothing of trying to reassure her. Rachel had gotten extremely good at reading his emotions-- it’s what made her so reminiscent of his memories. She was a leader, despite not technically the “leader” of the group. But she had that quality about her that made you want to follow her, to listen to what she said and take it to heart. 

Newt took a small bite of the biscuit, the hard exterior stealing the moisture in his mouth. He chewed it slowly, pulling his right leg to his chest, the one not throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He rested an arm across his leg and leaned his forehead against it, the pain overriding his thoughts. 

Something tapped his lifted leg and when he glanced up, Alice was crouching to sit down, water bottle pressed to Newt’s leg. The water was slightly murky, a byproduct of the purified liquid they boiled and filtered the night before, having found an underground water source. 

He nodded to her in thanks and she settled on his other side. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip, just enough to help wash down the dry biscuit. She hummed slightly, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “How’s your leg holding up hun?” 

Newt shrugged, licking his lips as he drew the bottle from his mouth and capped it again. “Bloody hurts and it’s worse since I can't remember why.” He took another bite of the biscuit, Alice pressing her shoulder against his. 

“You’ll remember in time hun, especially with the rate you already are,” she smiled, infecting Newt with his own grin. Rachel coughed, leaning against his other side. 

“Any idea if a memory links to it?”

“I think it has to do with one of the first memories I got,” he began. He rested his cheek against his arm on his knee, head turning to look through a crack in the wall of the shack. “Think I tried to bloody jump off the wall in the Maze… didn’t want to be there anymore.” 

Rachel hummed quietly. “E’eryone has their reasons for doin’ somethin’ like that at the time, even if they don’ realize who needs them most.” 

“Yeah,” Newt agreed, glancing to her. “I think someone I knew before… a Minho, found me… brought me back, helped me get back in order. I don’t remember much but he was the second name I remembered… that must be important right?” 

Alice nodded, her head dipping into his shoulder. “From what I understand about memories… the most important things to a person are usually what’s remembered first. That’s how it was with my brother anyways.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that what I tried to do… in the Maze, is important to me, despite it being so traumatic?”

Rachel knocked her shoulder against his, rolling her eyes at him. “O’ course it’s important hun. You survivin’ that-- that’s somethin’ that shaped ya to be who you are. The things ya faced to get ya to that point, those are some of the most important, even if they were wrong. Survivin’ that… it made ya reevaluate your life up to that point, made ya remember who ya were and what’s most important to ya.” 

Newt stared at her, getting a sensation of deja vu, like he’d heard something like that before. That someone tried to tell him that before. And that just… it made him want to meet those important people to him before, made him want to know who he thought living for was worth it. 

It made him angry to not be able to remember such important people. Angry that he didn’t know if they were dead or alive, if they abandoned him when he was a Crank, or if they had no choice. He wanted to find them, ask them things, learn who he was before. He wanted to know how chronological these memories are, which ones were before the Maze or after it. 

“Thanks Ray.” 

“Anytime hun.” 

  
  
  


After stopping for the small respite in the shack, Nikos and Byron had scouted ahead, to see how far they approximately were from where they stashed three bergs. They had come back with news of a cavernous area, signs of what used to be life surrounding the area. Old, broken signs covered in sand and rusted away. 

The group had been unanimous, to rest up inside the caverns and escape the harsh heat, maybe find more fresh water to refill their canteens and bottles of water. The caverns looked to be large and spacious, hollowed out inside to give a cooler temperature than the Scorch. 

The group wandered around the area, trying to find the best place to enter the caverns that would not lead to them potentially dying by slipping and falling. They wandered around small structures outside, eventually finding a sight they did not expect to see. Double doors hung open in the side of the rocky wall, sand and dirt smeared the inside of the doors but due to the bright sun of the Scorch, they could not see any further in than a few feet. The sand around the doors was scuffed and did not lay flat, thought it did look on the softer side, indicating it having been some time since it was last disturbed. 

The group looked at the doors warily, Nikos being the first to walk forwards. He received wary looks, to which he scoffed and said, “We gotta find out what the hell it is, don’t we?” And then he disappeared through the doors. Seconds later he was seen again, grim look on his face. “It’s… not pretty.” 

His words invested curiosity in the group and they all moved together, entering the doorway slowly and carefully, nerves drawn up and guns in place. A smell wafted through the air, something repugnant and brutal to the senses. Newt recognized the smell, something he knew he smelt before but could not remember when or what it was. 

As his eyes adjusted… he got his answer.

Bodies were strewn about everywhere, blood smearing the entire floor. Some of the bodies looked as if they had been chewed on, maybe by cranks, and it put the group on edge. One body in particular drew Newt’s attention. It was the body of a small boy, slightly pudgy, blood covering the front of his body, chest and neck wide open, as if a crank had chewed on him for a good while. 

Nikos hissed, looking away. “He’s just a kid too.” Jordan crouched down beside the body, head tilting to the side as he studied the kid. 

“Looks to be about twelve maybe… decomposition has set in, maggots are already swarming in the crevasses of these wounds, maybe around nine months?” 

“Seven.” 

All eyes shot towards Newt, the blond paying them no mind. His gaze stayed on the dead boy. He could vaguely hear Rachel asking him what he said but all Newt could see was this boy, a boy who once stood beside him so long ago. A boy so brave that he risked his life to save one person. 

A boy who died much too young.

Ever so quietly, Newt’s broken voice carried through the place, echoing slightly off the metal walls, “That’s Chuck…” He could feel tears making their way down his cheeks but all he felt was a stinging numbness. There were a few gasps and he figured they were from the few that knew of the memories he remembered. 

It hurt he couldn’t remember more. His subconscious obviously recognized this boy, enough that he was able to recognize it as Chuck, a sweet boy that had only been with them for a month before… before… Newt couldn't remember what happened the month after Chuck came around, his mind drawing a blank. 

He wanted to remember, wanted to know what happened in his life before. He needed to know what was so important to him. He  _ ached _ to know. 

A hand fell against Newt’s back and he glanced to his right. Alice was there, worried look on her face. “You doing okay?” Newt nodded, swallowing thickly. Alice looked over the small body, so young, so destroyed. “Want to help me bury him?” 

Newt’s head snapped to her and he nodded, nails digging into the palms of his hands where they hung loosely by his sides. Alice hummed quietly, taking off the bag on her shoulders and pulling it to her front. “I have a sheet here, one of the extras… we can spare one for Chuck.” She held one end out to Newt and he took the corner. They moved together solemnly, placing the white sheet over Chuck. 

When he was fully covered, Rachel coughed from the double doors that they had come into the building from. She nodded her head to the outside, “Let’s go find a good place to put him at.” As Newt and Alice made their way to Rachel, the shorter girl bumped her hip into Newt’s. 

“He’s definitely in a better place now Newt, probably watching you up in heaven and cursing you for forgetting,” she grinned, the attempt at a joke bringing a small smile to Newt’s face. 

And compared to what he’s seen… he couldn’t help but think that Chuck is safer, that being dead might be the best way to handle this world, instead of suffering, or making others suffer around you. 

He was a Crank before, the Flare controlling him and subjugating his mind, forcing him to turn against the people he cared for and cherished, the people that made him happy. Just thinking that… thinking that the Flare would have made him attack the people that were most important to him… that was the worst feeling in the world. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ran away from me in all honesty. It just... flew away and took off with a mind of its own. So here's some good ole Frypan feels since I never see anything about how he feels with Newt dead.

_ “Why don’t you take some more Newt?” _

_ The blond glanced up at him, a harsh look in his eyes. “I’m fine Frypan.” He returned to staring at the bowl before him, calmly stirring a spoon through the stew before him. Frypan rolled his eyes and sat across from Newt, putting his own bowl in front of him and taking a bite.  _

_ “Yeah? Well it looks to me that you aren’t really eatin’.” _

_ Newt scoffed, setting the spoon down. “What are you, my mother?” _

_ “No,” Frypan began, meeting Newt’s eyes. “I’m a friend who cares about you.” He heard an audible gulp, the blond wrenching his gaze away. Frypan gave a careful smile, using his spoon to mix around the vegetables in his stew. “I won’t ask but I know that so many boys here look up to you and that you are a big part of why this place runs so smoothly.  _ **_You_ ** _ are what’s important to us even when you don’t feel like it.” _

_ “Yeah,” came the agreement, Newt’s voice thick and raspy with something Frypan couldn’t quite place. He was nodding along, crunched in on himself, head bowed low. “We’re in this together… not one of us is alone.”  _

_ “And that’s… what makes us strong.” _

With a gasp, Frypan shot up, glancing all around him, hands scrambling against bed sheets. His eyes flickered all over the small room, searching for something…  _ someone _ that wasn’t there. As realization flooded him and he was reminded of where he is, his frantic motions halted. 

His knees rose beneath the blanket and he placed his elbows on them, dropping his head into his hands. He rubbed harshly at his eyes, aggressively brushing unshed tears away. Noises from an open window fluttered in, children shouting in joy, people laughing together, birds chirping loudly. It calmed him down… hearing something so reminiscent of the Glade just after wake up. 

He missed it. 

Shaking his head, Frypan heaved a sigh and lifted his head, legs dropping flat. He swung them to the side, flinging the blanket off. The ground was warm beneath his feet, causing him to glance outside, trying to gauge the time. By the amount of people wandering about, he guessed it was about noon, possibly lunch time by the many people surrounding the open pavilion in front of the memory stone. 

Lifting himself from the bed, Frypan rubbed the back of his head, walking to where he had laid clean clothes out. As he changed, he let his mind wander. 

He didn’t call the dreams he had nightmares… because they weren’t. He wasn’t haunted by regrets he had, wasn't tormented by the horrors they faced, wasn't plagued by the deaths of his friends. His dreams were often memories… the ones that he thought of fondly and made his heart ache. The good times in the Glade with everyone; Alby, Winston, Ben, Zart, Newt… every single one of them. 

It was so surreal that only three of them made it to Paradise. That they lost everyone else on the way here. 

Going blind shortly as he pulled a shirt over his head, Frypan knew that this day would be hard. His head was full of memories, such old memories that hurt his heart to remember. The late start to his day was another hint… how his shoulders felt weighed down and his gut churned with anxiety. 

Despite the day being half over… it was going to be a long one. 

  
  
  


The door creaked as he stepped outside, slanted on its mediocre hinges. The small huts that some people were given were rickety and rushed to be put together, but they worked well for how many people were in Paradise. There were two large huts that most people stayed in, separated by boys and girls, but singular huts were given to those that requested them. 

Frypan had been hesitant about asking for one… but he relented when Gally had shown him plans for it already. He had to admit, it was nice to be able to stow away and be alone somewhere. 

Gally had thrown himself into the working environment that was so similar to the Glade. When Frypan had asked about it, Gally said he wanted to take his mind off things. That if he was focussing on something else he wouldn’t get trapped in his thoughts. Gally had confided in Frypan… a few days after they arrived in their Safe Haven… that he felt immense guilt at the actions he pulled when they had first got out of the Maze. That he regrets not fighting harder against the agitation of a Griever sting. 

Frypan had asked him question after question, especially how he got involved with Lawrence and his rebel insurgents. It was another thing that caused Gally to feel regret and guilt. That when he was found by some of Lawrence’s men, he had been half dead. That he  _ saw _ Chuck and his lifeless eyes. Saw a Crank hovering over the dead boy and had to do something. Chuck had already been hurt enough, he didn’t deserve the disrespect to his body. 

The tall boy told Frypan of how he travelled with two of Lawrence’s men through the Scorch. That he lost one to vicious Cranks and the other to a foolish mistake. How he tried to  _ kill _ himself before Lawrence found him. He had felt as if he owed a lot to Lawrence but was willing to live with that debt since he was reunited with his family. 

Frypan had forgiven Gally instantly. 

After hearing about the control WCKD had over him, using the chip in his neck to control him, Frypan felt he needed some comfort. And in all honesty… Frypan  _ knows _ Gally, knows him before he was stung by a griever, before he was plagued by shitty incomplete memories from before the Maze. Frypan would always miss Chuck, would always feel that emptiness in his chest, the steady ache that followed wherever he walked nowadays, but, he wasn't willing to let an old friend suffer, by something that couldn’t change. 

_ “What say you to a large enough place for you to stash your supplies away Fry?”  _

_ Frypan looked up from chopping potatoes. Gally was there, his large stature bearing down over the cook. “Whatchu mean Gally?”  _

_ The larger boy nodded to the small, hut type structure Frypan was currently covered by. “We’re always being sent up klunk that we have no use for unless we build. The animal pens have all been taken care of and we even used some to start up a vineyard, at least that’s what George called it. We got extra klunk and you could probably use more space, right?”  _

_ Humming to himself, Frypan started chopping vegetables again. “I ‘spose you’re right. Be nice to be able to hide klunk away before y’all got your paws on it.”  _

_ “I’ll start mapping a place tomorrow,” Gally nodded, body turning to look over the expanse of the Glade. “Maybe somewhere by the fire pit, be close to where we gather at nights.”  _

_ “Sounds good Gally.”  _

Everything was so much easier then. Sure, they didn’t remember anything before the Glade, but they were all together. Everyone played their part and they were family. The Glade was all they knew, that and the Maze. 

He could still remember the first time someone mentioned going into the Maze. No one had ever brought it up before--they didn’t know what was in there after all, having noticed the doors opening at sunrise and closing at sundown every night. They didn’t have much to tell time and what if whoever went in got lost? They didn’t even know that it was a maze at the time.  They’d be stuck out there all night. So they avoided the possibility of going into the Maze. 

Until they ran out of options. It had been a week since they tried to send someone back down the box hole. Pain was still fresh from losing Justin when Minho brought up the possibility. 

_ “What if we try the doors. Go in at sunrise and get out before sundown?”  _

_ They were all gathered in the largest hut, the Homestead. They had been trying to think of something new to try, a new way to get out. They had to get out, so the ones they lost wouldn't have been for nothing. Minho’s suggestion, however, drew everyone’s attention, each of them wearing incredulous looks.  _

_ “We don’t know what’s out there Minho,” Nick spoke up, voice drifting around the room. His voice had always demanded attention and he was the “unofficial” leader of them all. “What’s to say that if we go out there the result won’t be any different than what was down the box hole?”  _

_ They were silent. No one really had an answer. They had looked through the doors at whatever laid outside them, but saw the same thing each time, a long pathway with walls as high as the Glade, a curve turning to the left at the end of the path. There was no telling what was outside the Glade walls, if it could even help them.  _

_ “But we don’t know that,” came the accented reply. Newt drew everyone’s attention just as much as Nick had, being the only boy with an accented voice. He was like Nick as well, a figure that demanded leadership almost as much as Nick did. “We didn’t know what the box hole did until we tried it out.”  _

_ “And that’s how we lost Justin,” George reminded. “Just last week too.”  _

_ “It’s called finding out our options.” The harshness of the words stung at Frypan gut. Alby had been the one to so blatantly call it out, not wasting time beating around the bush. “We have to test every option available to us, regardless of if we lose someone in the process. We were all put in here for some reason… there needs to be a way out.”  _

_ Nick’s hand smacked against the side of the hut, a loud crunching sound following. His fist dropped limply against his leg but he glared harshly at the three. “I won’t be risking anyone’s lives to satiate your curiosity.”  _

_ “Then let us go out there.”  _

_ Frypan looked over the three that stood together. Three that were unquestionably a force to be reckoned with. They had each other’s back ever since people began remembering their names. The three of them-- Minho, Newt, Alby-- had formed a unit together, and if Nick wasn’t around then Frypan had no doubt they would be the ones in charge.  _

_ “You aren’t risking anyone’s lives if we volunteer Nick,” Minho stated, arms folding over his chest. “All we have to do is be back before sundown.”  _

_ “And if the doors decide to close early?”  _

_ Newt scoffed, eyebrow raising. “What makes ya think the doors will change their bloody pattern after three bloody months?” Silence followed his question. “You’re graspin’ at bloody straws Nick and you know it.” Nick’s jaw clenched tightly, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “You know us Nick. We wouldn’t make ya worry for bloody nothin’. If it turns out to be a dud then we’ll come back and never mention it again. But if there’s a chance… even the smallest bloody chance that those doors can lead us outta here, then we need to take it.”  _

_ The leader sighed, using his uninjured hand to run through his dark hair. “You’ll just go through tomorrow anyways… won’t you?” He looked to the small group.  _

_ Minho shrugged. “We were actually thinking just me and Newt, Alby ain’t fast enough to keep up with our pace.” Alby was nodding along.  _

_ “I know ya’re worried Nick,” Newt said, features softening. “Everyone’s goin’ bloody crazy bein’ here with no bloody answers. Whoever put us here obviously wants somethin’ from us. They wouldn’t have opening doors if we weren’t meant to see what the shuck was out there.”  _

_ “Alright, fine,” Nick agreed. “I’m getting your word Newt, you and Minho better be back before sundown, you understand me? If you’re not back I’m goin’ in to get you, don’t care how close the doors are to closing.”  _

Frypan had known for a long time that Minho, Alby, and Newt were their own special unit. They had gravitated to each other so soon after everyone started getting the hang of things. Except there had been two noticeable rifts that dug between them. After Minho had brought Newt back from the Maze, carrying him, putting him in the Homestead where no one could see hide nor hair of the blond for three weeks, his absence brutal to them all. And when Nick died. When Nick died and Alby was put in charge. 

Something changed in each of them that was only noticeable to the boys that had been around for years, the original boys that had grown with the three. Frypan saw it and he was afraid of it. If their immovable unit could be torn apart so easily then what about the rest of them?

Then again… there was another moment that tore them apart and eventually… destroyed their friendship. When Thomas came up in the box. When a shuck Greenie was different and more curious than any others. Teresa coming up after him, saying his name. A Greenie running into the Maze and  _ surviving _ a night, keeping Alby  _ and _ Minho alive. Something changed… and sometimes Frypan wasn’t sure if it was for the better. 

A hand slapped his back and he was dragged away from his thoughts. Turning his head, Minho was by his side, dark circles beneath his eyes, a grim look on his face. “Bad night?”

He nodded, resting a hand on his forehead. “I’ve been awake since shuck knows. What about you though? Getting outta bed so late?”

“Been one of those days again.”

Minho nodded. “I getcha. Don’t stay in your head too long. Any of us are here too, even just to keep you company.” Frypan nodded. 

“I hear you,” he said, glancing to where trees stood behind the large pavilion they had set up. “Kinda wanna be alone right now though… want to… reminisce I suppose.”

“Get something to eat first at least, Fry.”

And then the Asian was off, figure slightly slumped, perking only slightly when he came up behind Thomas, throwing an arm around the other. Frypan watched them, smile spreading his lips. He was glad they had no bad blood, that they figured their shit out. Those two… they were their biggest critics, especially when it came to Newt. 

They had both blamed themselves a long time after they got to this paradise. It was something that stewed inside both of them, that ached Frypan’s heart to see. He had felt helpless because you can’t help someone who doesn't want it. Minho, the ever present support that never wavered and did not show weakness, a close strength to Newt for three years. Thomas, the natural leader that any of them would follow, who had gotten close with Newt during the time they took to destroy Maze projects and find Minho. 

Newt was important to both of them, in such extraordinary ways that Frypan wished… oh how he wished they had been quicker, smarter, smoother with the extraction of Minho and those kids. That Brenda or Gally realized what Newt needed and took a serum they stole back to Newt. He had heard the story from Gally several times over… the blond refusing to stay behind with Gally and the kids, refusing to let Thomas go alone,  _ refusing _ his own health and safety, the  _ one thing _ that could hold off this virus until they found a better fix. Until Teresa made her damn announcement and they could  _ save  _ Newt. 

Thomas and Minho, after Thomas’ first initial wake up, avoided each other. They blamed themselves and thought the other would blame them too. Everything had come to a head one day however, when Thomas had gotten so angry, so angry and full of sadness… that he called Minho out on it. 

_ “Why aren’t you angry?” _

_ The voice was gruff and heavy, raspy with the emotion that carried unshed tears. Frypan glanced up and saw Thomas, saw his tightly wound shoulders, arms tense down his body, hands formed into fists that looked so painful even from his place.  _

_ Below him, Minho looked up at Thomas, dark circles beneath his eyes, eyelids barely even open. He had been slightly relaxed with exhaustion before… but now, with Thomas bearing down over him, his back had tensed completely, the muscles in his neck bulging, shoulders scrunching up.  _

_ Frypan knew what Minho was thinking, that Thomas finally realized how much fault Minho had, that it was Minho’s fault Newt is dead. While Thomas was thinking the opposite. Thomas thinking that Minho should be angry at him, that he should break his neck for killing someone so important to Minho.  _

_ The both of them were idiots that dared not listen to reason given to them by any of their remaining friends.  _

_ “I am angry Thomas,” Minho’s voice was gruff in return, defeat so clear that it sprouted agony in Frypan’s gut.  _

_ “Then why haven’t you done something about it?”  _

_ Minho slammed his hands into the table below him, standing abruptly, drawing attention they hadn’t had before. Thomas flinched back and Frypan saw Gally step towards them, Brenda by his side, hand on his arm to hold him back. Frypan saw Brenda shake her head, speaking softly to Gally, the taller boy calming only slightly, his gaze never wavering from Thomas and Minho.  _

_ Minho’s voice carried over the watchful crowd, and Frypan could see in his peripheral, Vince and Jorge walking around the area and slowly having people leave the pavilion, dinner having been finished a while ago. “I have done something about it Thomas. Why haven't  _ **_you_ ** _.” _

_ Frypan nearly lunged forwards at the glare Minho was giving Thomas. At this rate a physical fight would break out. He was halted in his tracks by Jorge, the man stepping in front of Frypan’s path.  _

_ “Let them get it out hermano,” Jorge whispered. “Let’s get everyone out of here and give them some alone time… some time to confront what they both feel.” _

_ Frypan nodded, biting his lip as he watched Thomas and Minho both square up, face-to-face, mere inches apart. He couldn't hear anything anymore, could only see their chests moving rapidly up and down, both glaring into each other’s eyes, bodies wound tighter than anything Frypan has seen before.  _

_ People filtered away from the pavilion, bodies turning back to get a glimpse of Thomas and Minho, to see what was going to happen. Not many knew them personally, but they knew of them. Knew what they went through, knew the rumors and the death of someone so important to them. Had seen them just go through the motions, zoning out and avoiding each other. People knew of the tension surrounding them… and were quick to follow through with the dismissal of Jorge and Vince.  _

_ As the last person filtered out, Frypan glanced back at Minho and Thomas. He could see Thomas’ back and that was it, but by his body language, tension was still running high. He feared that when the place had cleared out… when the two were alone, they’d both blow up, with no one around to stop them.  _

_ A hand landed on his back, and Frypan glanced over his shoulder seeing Vince there, watching Thomas and Minho with understanding in his eyes. “Let’s go kid.” His head flicked towards the back of the pavilion. “We’ll listen in over there, make sure it doesn’t get too outta hand.”  _

Thomas and Minho… they had both yelled at each other so violently. The confrontation had been a long one coming and although Frypan hated to see them fight like this, they needed it. Frypan had gotten close with Thomas and Newt, during the months searching for Minho, but he never truly got to see their deep, emotional sides. He knew what haunted them and comforted them, was comforted himself but each of them kept their truly tender emotions away from the other. 

Frypan was close with Thomas, Newt, and Minho-- but in a different way that they were close with each other. 

The altercation had led to a fight between the two desperate boys, Vince and Jorge keeping Brenda, Gally, and Frypan away from them. Minho and Thomas both were strong, imposing figures that had their own ideas and wouldn’t bare an inch the other way, but the amount of trust and love they had for each other… it amazed Frypan. How they fixed their issues so quickly and found solace in each other. They both missed their other half. And while Frypan had loved Newt just the same, it was nowhere near the intensity of what Minho and Thomas felt. Nowhere near the amount of care and closeness that the two earned from Newt, two of the only Gladers to truly find Newt’s most vulnerable side, to see the blond when he was at his lowest. 

But that was Newt after all. The courageous and caring second-in-command that was always there, ready to offer his help and his opinions. Ready to give advice when it was needed. After his accident in the Maze with a Griever that resulted in his limp, he became the official second-in-command to Nick, along with Alby. He was always just there. That one figure that greeted the Greenies after receiving the harsh tour with no answered questions. That one figure that every Glader trusted with everything they had. 

Thomas was huge in the saving of them all… but sometimes, Frypan thought most of the Gladers were following Newt. Newt who followed a shuck Greenie without fail, who put his trust in someone so new that made each of the Gladers believe that he was doing the right thing, that this was what they must do. 

Newt was what kept them together… who he follows, they follow. 

And there is the truth in that with Thomas and Minho both. The two of them, without Newt’s calm and collected mind, his rationality outweighing their recklessness, Thomas and Minho… they just didn’t know what to do. 

Brenda had once searched for Frypan, asking about Newt and Thomas’ relationship. About Thomas’ and Minho’s, Newt and Minho’s, how the three of them were so intertwined that when Thomas held that bomb in his hand, Newt and Minho both, with no hesitation stood by him, that Frypan himself stood there. That all of them would return to the place they so desperately tried to escape from just for one man. 

And Frypan explained. He explained their alignment, how well they meshed, how they were a unit that would do anything for the other. They were such a big part of each other’s lives that Frypan didn’t think anything could ever become between them. 

He knew the signs, had watched Teresa look at Thomas the same way, had seen Thomas look at Teresa in return. After Thomas had saved Brenda’s life, after they had run through the Scorch together, Frypan saw the feelings Brenda was growing for Thomas. Thomas who was so raw from Teresa’s betrayal, so raw from Minho being  _ stolen _ . It was something Frypan had thought would be good for the Greenie, to get his mind away from things, until he saw the true complexity of his feelings for Newt. 

That Thomas had unwittingly harbored his own feelings for the blond, that looked ages old to Frypan, looked like they were just rekindling an already lit flame. That day, the day he saw Thomas and Newt standing so close, the blond pressing his forehead to Thomas’ to calm the Greenie down, something had changed the way Frypan looked at them. He knew, oh how he  _ knew _ that something was between them. Something so fierce that it was rebuilt even after their memories were erased. That day, Frypan saw something in both boys’ eyes that made him realize the feelings they carried from before the Maze, before each of them forgot everything that was important to them. 

Coincidentally, that had also been the day Frypan saw Brenda’s own feelings die. 

Frypan had watched Newt and Thomas, both of them so oblivious, unconsciously come closer, their subconsciouses drawn to each other, even if they never realized. Both of them had been so focussed on finding Minho, on getting their third piece back, they didn’t even realize what was forming between them. 

There was such a strength in their bond, that Frypan always felt so blessed to be able to witness it, that despite everything they’ve been through, despite losing Minho, despite the constant tensions that ran high, Newt and Thomas… they could find each other. Frypan had witnessed two of his best friends, two of the people he felt closest to after leaving the Maze, fall in love. 

And he also saw how it broke them. 

_ He had been woken up with a harsh shove to his shoulder, the darkness around him framing an even darker shape that crouched above him. It reminded him of the wake up in the Glade. How Newt would wander about and slowly wake up all the Keepers before they helped him wake the other Gladers.  _

_ Except they weren’t in the Glade anymore and there were no more Keepers to wake up.  _

_ Newt’s accented whisper came flooding through Frypan thoughts, the dark skinned boy trying to focus on it with his sleep addled mind. “C’mon, Fry. Tommy’s gonna be a stupid cunt and I’m not letting him be one alone.”  _

_ “The shuck is Thomas doin’?” _

_ “Not doin’ it yet, but he’s bloody goin’ to.” And with that he stood up, walking around the sleeping bodies, careful to not step on any stray limbs. Frypan yawned as he sat up. Thomas being a stupid shank was something he was used to, and now that he was awake, Frypan realized Thomas was probably going to go after Minho alone, without telling anybody. He shook his head, slightly ashamed he hadn’t caught it before. Of course he wouldn’t want to leave on the ship without Minho, it wouldn’t be a Safe Haven without the Asian.  _

_ The dark skinned boy stood and carefully gathered the small amount of stuff he had in a small backpack that he used as his pillow. He grabbed his shoes and carefully began dodging around the many bodies strewn about the area, tripled in size from the train car rescue just earlier this morning.  _

_ When he got out of the large room they slept in, Newt was leaning against the railing of the ship, head turned towards the downtrodden pier that held the cruise liner that they would take to Paradise. When the metal door shut softly behind Frypan, Newt looked to him, a glare on his face.  _

_ “Get your bloody shoes on mate, unless you don’t want to stop Tommy from leavin’ us bloody behind.”  _

_ Frypan nodded, chin dropping to rest on his chest, smile bright on his face. Of course Newt was pissed at Thomas. Of course Newt would realize Thomas would go into WCKD alone and try to do it all by himself. Of course Newt would know that Frypan wouldn’t want to be left out, be left behind.  _

_ He tied his shoes and looked to the blond, who was fidgeting against the rail, picking at his fingernails. He looked down at Frypan’s shoes, nodded and started walking down the metal walkway, leading Frypan down the boat and onto the pier. Frypan recognized the area as where they hid the jeeps, the jeeps they disguised to look like pieces of scrap metal, even if that’s what they were made of.  _

_ Newt was muttering to himself and Frypan could only make out the bare minimum of his words, all creative insults towards Thomas. They were entertaining to listen to, all ranging from “dumbass, ignorant fool” to “stupid bratty shit-for-brains cunt” and Frypan had to withhold his laughter or else face the blond’s wrath instead.  _

_ Newt had ranted about Thomas for a good twenty minutes in the dark before they heard something rattling as a door shut and footsteps padded over the metal plating of the ship’s deck. Newt had shut off the dim lamp they were sitting with and pushed the door close on the jeep, Frypan inside. Frypan huffed a laugh but carefully watched as their resident fool of a Greenie tried to sneak away.  _

_ “And where do you think you’re going?”  _

That constant mockery and sass Newt gave Thomas always made Frypan laugh. One of the biggest things he missed about their relationship honestly. The banter they threw at each other, the love they carried in their words, Frypan felt as if he’d never be able to witness it again, that the part of Thomas that carried that feeling… died with Newt.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this has some pretty heavy stuff if I'm honest. It doesn't have much to do with our lovely boys but a look into my OC's head. A little bit of what the Flare does. Mostly just a filler chapter, nothing really happens ehre, that's why it's much shorter than the others.

“Alright so we have the bergs situated and ready for attachment?” 

Nikos rubbed a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yep, probably take us a couple days to weld the pieces together, then attach those solar panels Mace and Jace found. Only way I can think of to get across the ocean without needed to refuel… or just finding a ship.”

“It’ll take a bit to get the solar panels and berg systems working properly together,” Braydon interjected, “but I can handle that. That’s just minor wiring adjustments and with that we don’t need the space and weight the fuel tanks hold and can scrap those as well. Leave the bergs to charge up and we should be good in about a week or so.” 

Evan nodded, arms folding over his chest. “Alright, then get to it. We’re wasting time sittin’ ‘round talkin’.” Braydon and Nikos nodded, gathering the few papers before them and leaving the small room. 

Newt peered around them as they passed, watching the blond leader inside the room. Evan sat on the table in the room, arms over his chest, eyes closed. From his position, Newt could just barely make out the dark veins trailing up his neck, only slightly lighter than a pure black that matched Newt’s own. Evan rubbed his neck, scratching along it, red lines marring the skin. 

He hadn’t gotten the chance to talk much with Evan, the blond always off on his own or with Raphael. It was hard to find him anywhere around the others… and considering the amount of stories Newt has been told from Jordan and the others, Evan wasn’t always like that. 

Evan used to be at the very center of their group… the one thing that all of them felt so attached to that they would never even  _ think _ of betraying him. They were a family, found a niche within themselves and relied on one another. 

Newt felt like an outsider. He wasn’t a part of their family… just a stray they picked up and took in out of the goodness of their hearts-- or to figure out why he was different. And even if he did eventually come to be apart of their family… he could never accept it. He felt like he was replacing  _ his own _ family. The people most important to him. 

The names he remembered, which ones were still around, which ones are gone. He wanted to know these people, wanted to know why he remembered their names but not  _ why _ they were important. 

A snort permeated his thoughts and he flinched up, looking to the blond leader. “You’ll hurt yourself thinkin’ so hard,” Evan said, not moving from his resting position. He flicked his head in a motion to draw Newt near him. Newt swallowed thickly but stood from his seat and wandered into the room, shutting the door behind him. He took a seat a ways down from where Evan stood, the other blond watching him. “What’s got you starin’ off into space?” 

Newt threaded his fingers together, fidgeting as sharp blue eyes fell on him. He was silent for so long, he thought Evan would get sick of it. But the leader was quiet, and when Newt glanced back up, he had turned his gaze to the ceiling, veins sticking out prominently on his bared neck. 

“How do you handle it?” Newt’s voice broke the silence, an echo in a soft environment. 

Evan hummed, eyes closing. His hands fell from their crossed position and he rested his palms against the table, leaning back against them. “The Flare right?” Newt nodded but before he could say anything to indicate an answer, Evan continued on. “It comes and goes. Most of the time I can understand and feel what’s happenin’… other times… it’sa haze.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Makes me misinterpret what’s bein’ said, what the people ‘round me are feelin’. Get irrational and can’t think properly,” his voice was quiet, so tender and calm that Newt barely recognized it as Evan’s own. He hadn’t ever spoken with the blond in this state, only ever really heard him when he was angry, yelling at Jayden or any of the others. 

Newt bit his lip, tightening the grip in his hands. “How have you lasted this long?”

“Hmm?”

“Jayden said before that it’s been speeding up… that the Serum doesn’t work like it’s supposed to…” Newt trailed off, glancing at the floor. He didn’t want to set the leader off, didn’t want to incite his anger. “How have you… lasted as long as you have?” 

“The Flare has been airborne ever since they released it, anyone who’s not immune has it,” Evan stated, eyes opening but holding such a soft look, that Newt felt nothing but trust. The blond wasn’t in danger of lashing out-- this was a moment of clarity. “We’ve run so many tests to figure out why, but Jayden can’t come up with a conclusive logical answer.” Evan looked to Newt, small grin over his face. “Raph says it’s cause I’ve lived in a constant state of stress my whole life. That I wouldn’t be me without stress plaguing me.”

“A constant state of stress?”

“My family has been hiding from WCKD for years, ever since the first Flare breakout. I’ve lost people important to me, lost so many that I’ve cared about… that if I’m not thinkin’ about how to keep us safe I get antsy and reckless,” he paused, taking a deep breath, fingers falling into fists against the table. “I’m always thinkin’ of a plan of escape, any plan we have... I have back ups in case somethin’ goes wrong. When everythin’s relaxed and we don’t hafta move all over the place… I think that’s when my worst moments are, when the Flare eradicates anything I’ve ever felt for these boys. When it makes me attack the people I love.” 

Newt was silent, watching the shorter blond carefully. His heart hurt for him. Newt had been plagued by the same disease, the disease that mutated for him but won’t mutate for Evan. Newt wasn’t sure if he did anything in his life that could have helped the survival of humanity. Why did the Flare change for Newt? Someone who can’t remember  _ anything _ about his previous life. Someone who hasn’t been fighting against WCKD since the beginning. Someone who hasn’t lost so many people. 

Why was a stupid amnesiac saved and not someone who was actually fighting against this virus?

“...Your memories… how do you keep them in track?” 

Lips parted in a rue smile and Evan eyed Newt out of his peripherals. “Raph helps a bunch. Havin’ someone so close to you, to help you focus and keep in touch with yourself, who understands you better than yourself… that’s what keeps me human, what keeps me…  _ me _ . I wouldn’t have lasted long without Raph by my side… makes it harder to leave him when that times comes I guess.” 

“You sound like you’ve given up on a cure.” 

“Cause I have Newt,” Evan answered, turning his body completely to face the accented blond. The look in Evan’s eyes was wild and Newt leaned back in the chair he sat in, eyes widening with fear. At this motion, Evan’s own eyes widened and his breath hitched audibly, turning away, hands clutching his arms. His voice came as a whisper mere seconds later. “It’s moments like those that made me finally accept my inevitable death.” 

Newt pursed his lips together, disappointed in himself at flinching away so abruptly. But he had seen what Cranks do, how they act. They have nothing holding them back, the Flare completely eradicating any sort of morals the infected once had. It took control of muscles and made once impossible physical action possible. Someone that was all skin and bones became someone that could rip a finger from someone’s hand. Anything that hindered a human in control of themself… was gone with the Flare. 

“How do you so easily say that you’ll die… how do you cope with losing your life?” 

Evan gave a bitter laugh, face turning slightly as he looked at Newt, unshed tears in his eyes. “I… don’t. I’ve accepted my death… but I don’t cope with it. Not a night goes by where I don’t sob in Raphael’s arms… wishing, praying for something,  _ anything _ to change. I don’t want to leave them in this place, leave them behind. The only reason I can accept it is because Raphael has me convinced that everyone’ll be fine. That they’re all strong.” He took a shuddering breath, tears dripping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, leaving clear tracks in the dirt on his face. 

“Doesn’t stop me from worrying about Jordan, what he’d do. He’s been through too much shit and relies so much on me that I can’t… I fear for  _ his _ life when I do die. Or even Jayden, what he’d resort to after I’m gone-- what kind of experiments he’d do so that he doesn’t have to lose anyone ever again. And if Jayden breaks, Mason will follow soon after, Mason relies so much on Jayden being stable… on being his anchor, that if anything were to happen to Jayden, Mason would undoubtedly just  _ give up _ . Jason and Mason have always been a package and I  _ know  _  that Jason would do anything for his brother, he’d stop trying once Mason did. 

“Rachel’s prolly the only one I don’t worry for… the only one capable enough to keep herself in line and on track enough to live. She’s too stubborn to give up. She’s already gone through hell and back for Alice that there’s no doubt in my mind she would wage war against anything and everyone if Alice died. Alice thinks herself as a nuisance sometimes, she keeps to herself alotta the time and doesn’t share what she feels to anyone but Rachel. Nikos would… He’d be so much more violent, so much angrier and that would rub off on Jamie and then Byron and then Braydon, the four of them… they’re so intertwined with each other that affecting one’s moods just makes the other’s spiral as well.

“And Raph… my Raphael… I can’t just...  _ leave _ him. He’s been, he’s  _ my  _ anchor. Without him… everythin’s so much worse.” Tears were flowing steadily over his cheeks now and Newt swallowed. He hadn’t meant to bring something so sensitive up. Abruptly, Evan spun to face Newt, eyes wide, face wet and Newt once again flinched back. “Did you have someone so important to you that you would do anything for them, that you would follow them off a cliff if that’s what was best? Someone that just…  _ understands _ you for who you are and immediately  _ gets _ you?” 

Gulping, Newt tried to think back. He tried to recall anything that could tell him if he had someone like that. If he had someone so close to him that he’d want to stay beside no matter what. The one person he’d risk his life for over anything else. And suddenly, a memory flashed before him, one so painless that it almost felt unreal. 

_ “Do you really want all of them to die?” _

_ And the steady presence was gone beside him, walking in Tommy’s direction. He followed after, eyes staying on the sight before them, the girl that they had trusted, the girl that he thought they could trust. The girl that  _ **_betrayed_ ** _ them. How she watched in horror as each one of them surrounded Tommy, Minho right beside him, Frypan pulling up the rear. They had been together through too much to not stand here with Tommy.  _

_ His gaze drew towards the frantic boy, towards Tommy. “We’re with you Thomas,” his own voice sounded. _

_ “No,” Teresa whispered.  _

_ Ava shook her head, eyes wide in shock. “Don’t.” _

_ From before him, Minho spoke softly. “Do it Thomas.” _

_ “We’re ready.” And he realized that what Frypan said was true. They were ready. They didn’t want to be forced to partake in something they did not choose. None of them wanted to go back into WCKD’s clutches where they could torture them even more than they already have.  _

_ He had already given up a long time ago. He had been ready then, and he’s ready now. He’d rather be dead on the ground that with these people who call themselves doctors. He had hope for a while, a side effect of Thomas, but here comes WCKD completely obliterating it.  _

_ He was done playing their games.  _ **_They_ ** _ were done playing their games.  _

Newt looked up at Evan, nodding once. “I think I did… once.”

Evan nodded, turning away from him again. They sat in silence for several minutes, Newt glancing over to the room’s glass wall. He saw his reflection staring back and him and was stunned to see a tear track trailing down one side of his face. He hadn’t even realized-- didn’t feel it. Maybe… maybe they were more important than Newt thought. 

“I hope you get your memories back Newt.”

The abrupt sentence made Newt flinch to Evan, staring at the blond who returned to gazing at the ceiling. His eyebrows furrowed and he swallowed. He didn't know what to say to that. Evan was different… and not just because he had the Flare. 

Everyone else had some resemblance of hope… Evan’s just… he’s quit. 

Newt thinks that if Evan was given the chance… he’d walk off and die somewhere alone. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when a chapter just... won't write. Yeah that was this chapter. I decided to split it up into two parts because if I didn't then it would take me forever to finish it completely. It's a doozy.

“Go, go! Let’s go!” Rachel yelled, voice echoing in the large hallway. It mingled with the groaning and inhuman screeches the cranks below them produced. They were stuck in a glass hallway that was suspended above a large pit of cranks. It didn’t help that behind them a group of maybe twelve cranks was chasing after them. 

She stood in a doorway, holding open double doors, Nikos right beside her, both of them yelling back to where Newt was being half-dragged, half-carried through the hall, Mason and Jason behind them, firing bullet after bullet into the following cranks, only for the one fallen to be replaced. Newt was squashed between Alice and Jamie, the two having picked him up after Byron sliced his arm open on a large piece of metal and Braydon having been shoved into the wall by a group of cranks, knocking him out. Braydon was draped over Raphael’s back and he kept one hand on Evan the whole time, the blond having disappeared somewhere in his mind during all this chaos. Jordan and Jayden had been separated from them earlier and Rachel assumed they were headed to get the berg. She was leading them all up to the roof. 

Rachel bit her lip, growling out. “Hurry up! I fucking knew this was a bad idea!” No one answered her but there was yells and shouts that followed, being drowned out by the moaning and screeches of the cranks. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing through her skull. Sounds filtered themself from her mind and all she could hear was the beating of her quickened heart… all she could see was her family get torn apart by the seams. 

 

**Four Hours Earlier**

 

“Are ya sure ‘bout this Braydon?” Raphael questioned, looking at the shorter boy, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. They all stood crowded together, staring down a large sand hill at a grouping of buildings that looked to be falling apart, bottom halves buried in sand. 

Braydon clicked his tongue and nodded. “Closest solar panels I could find. Seems like some people held out here for awhile until the storms got bad.” 

“Scoped out for cranks?” 

“Best we could without goin’ inside,” Jason replied, nodding to the buildings. “Mace and I wandered the perimeter and everythin’ was pretty damn silent from what we could tell. Panels are on the eighth or seventh level depending on how much is buried.” 

Evan hummed, head tilting against Raphael’s shoulder. “I say just a group of us go in, maybe five of us. It’d be safer that way.”

“Safer how?” Jayden scoffed. He drew the group’s attention, the brunet rolling his eyes at their incredulous looks. “We’ve been through this enough to know that we’re all safest together. Nothing good comes from splitting up,  _ especially _ in the Scorch.”

Pain twinged behind Newt’s eyes, right in the center of his forehead. He rubbed the area softly, finding himself remembering something another once said. He didn’t remember who… just that he didn’t recognize the voice. 

_ “Keep your heads down hermano,” a rough hand pushed against his head, pulling the group of them into a crouch. “Bren will take care of your boy as long as they don't get separated. Nothing good comes from being alone here.”  _

He blinked harshly, focussing back in on the group, hearing Rachel speak up from beside him, arm resting against his shoulder. “ _ I _ think it’s a bad idea. Goin’ somewhere we have no idea what’s inside, I don’ wanna risk that.” 

“What other choice do we have Ray?” came Alice’s soft voice, just above a whisper. “Solar panels are bound to be heavy and we could get more out of it if we all went. Not have to send anyone back.” 

Rachel tsked, pursing her lips together. “I don’ like it. Too perfect to be somethin’ that easy.” Her gaze fell over the buildings. “Sand’s pillowed at the sides, bound to have trapped somethin’ inside.” 

“I agree with Rache. I trust her instinct over anyone else’s,” Nikos supplied, bulky arms crossing over his chest. He was glaring unsubtly at Jayden and Alice. 

Braydon sighed harshly. “Yeah? Well this is the only way we can get what we need without having to travel miles backwards,” he hissed. He bared his teeth at Nikos, the Latino narrowing his eyes in return. “This is our best bet in order to get to that island as fast as possible.” 

A long, drawn out huff came nearer the front of the group, Raphael’s deep voice carrying over the group. “I don’ like it anymore’n y’all. We've been stuck in small spaces ‘fore. But--” Rachel nearly lunged forwards in protest, but was stopped as Raphael turned his head sharply and met her blue eyes, his own dark blue permeating through her defenses. “This is somethin that needs doin’. Except. We only do this as long as it’s still safe. If any of us find any danger we leave. No unnecessary risks, no sacrificing ourselves for everyone else, y'all hear me?”

Evan snorted, hiding his face in the taller blond’s shoulder. “You’re one ta talk Raph.”

Jordan giggled as well, adjusting the backpack thrown over his shoulders. “You’re the only one that we’d hafta worry about Raph, always tryna find some way to kill yourself.” 

The joking attitude seemed to break up the tense atmosphere as Raphael parted from Evan and went to grasp at Jordan’s head. Newt watched, small smile coming over his face. 

Braydon coughed, rolling his eyes and nudging his head towards the building. “I’ll lead the way in and to the panels, once we find them everyone will have to carry them to the roof, best place for extraction. Most I can see is we send two others off to get the bergs and bring ‘em to the roof for extraction.” He looked around the group, sending a look to Jordan and Jayden. “I suggest they go. They are our resident scientists and medical team so  _ in case _ someone gets hurt, we’ll need them with supplies.”

“So once we find the panels, Jayden and I’ll dip out then?” Jordan asked, twisting his body away from Raphael, the tall blond standing once again beside Evan, who leaned against his chest. 

Rachel sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Fine. But like Raph said,” she glared over the group, head scanning over each body, pointing her finger at them all, “if we find too much danger then we  _ leave _ .” Nods were shared between the group.

And then Newt’s mouth went dry. He was a liability in this case. His limp would not help them any. He’d be better off staying behind with the bergs. He opened his mouth to bring the issue up, but he paused at the hand that fell on his arm. His head tilted and he met Alice’s eyes. She had a wry grin on her face and she rolled her eyes at him. 

“I know you haven’t been with us long Newt, but I’d have thought you’d know by now that we don’t leave anyone behind.” 

“But… my leg…”

“Hun, no one is gettin thrown under a bus,” Rachel huffed, hands on her wide hips, exasperation clear on her face. “We ain’t gonna just leave you. Ya aren’t useless or a liability. Hell, we let an amputee come with us on these things.”

“Oi.” Byron called out, though he was halted by Jamie slapping him on the chest. The two shared a look before Byron conceded, pursing his lips and burying his nose in Jamie’s soft brown hair. The shorter laughed breathily, putting his left arm in his jacket pocket, his right hand threading through Byron’s fingers. 

“They aren’t wrong babe.” Byron glanced away and Newt nearly snorted seeing the normally apathetic man pout, although Nikos and Braydon laughed heartily, holding nothing about their amusement back. The others laughed as well and Newt was filled with an indescribable happiness. It was reminiscent to find joy in a tense situation, to find jokes when all felt lost. 

  
  
  


An hour later found the group of them traversing through the dark corridors. The floors were covered in sand and dust, trash cooped up where the floor and wall meet. They had entered the building through a hole in the wall, sand having been carved into the hole and creating a hill inside the building. The sand had looked undisturbed, no footprints to be found. It was a good sign. 

The building was full of glass walls and floors, seemingly a large office building that did not understand privacy. The corridor they walked in was completely glass, see through doors every so often along it, leading into large rooms that allowed sunlight to fly through. Everything looked incredibly pristine, as if no one had ever been in this building since the solar flares. 

It created an eerie atmosphere that set Rachel’s nerves on edge. 

Everyone was silent, the only noise being their feet echoing against the ground, sand shifting beneath their steps. They were headed towards the more central part of the building, trying to find where the stairwell was. They needed to head upwards. 

It took maybe ten minutes of walking silently, just listening for anything odd, before they reached a door with a stair sign on it. Evan was leading the way, Raphael directly behind him. Rifles were held in hands, knives also brandished so as not to waste ammunition. 

Evan had his own rifle slung across his back, a careful decision just in case the Flare took control. Jamie held a sharp machete in his right hand, bandana wrapped around his left, curved around the nub there. Alice held a flashlight, knife strapped to her thigh, Newt mirroring her position as they swept light over any dark spaces outside light did not reach. Nikos carried a large assault rifle, shotgun also strapped to his back. Braydon crept beside the Latino, shotgun held to his chest and pointed to the ground. Byron had pistols strapped to his hips in holsters, a large knife tucked into a band at his wrist for quick close combat, flashlight brandished in his other hand. Jordan and Jayden both held flashlights against their wrists, pistols steady in their hands, sweeping over the rooms they passed. Rachel carried her own assault rifle, magazine clips strapped to her belt. A small pistol was also tucked into her boot as a precaution. They had left most of their heavy artillery with the bergs, having stashed it away safely so no curious, busybodies would wander and find them. 

They all filtered into the stairwell and began heading upwards. A sign was on the door that read  _ Floor 3 _ . The sand must have piled up higher than they originally thought. 

The stairwell was pitch black, glass being nowhere in sight. They were silent as they gradually went up the stairs, the flashlight holders shining their lights upwards, trying to get a glimpse of what awaited them. They marched up the stairs slowly, sharp echoes bouncing off the walls. They passed door after door, carefully keeping track of the numbers as they went upwards. 

The stairwell was cold, the complete opposite of the Scorch outside, keeping all form of temperature trapped inside. However the place was dry, evidence of the intense heat waves that barrelled through the Scorch as a result of the sun flares. 

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek, turning around to check behind them. She had a bad feeling. Every cell in her body was telling her to  _ get out. _ They weren’t safe here.

But they weren’t safe anywhere else either. 

  
  
  


It took them barely any time at all to reach the eighth floor, having decided to go past the seventh floor to save time. Braydon had led them all into the spacious floor, each of them sweeping rooms upon rooms for the solar panels that were once spotted. They found nothing on the floor and decided to keep going up until they found them. 

They were safe through the first few floors they went on, but when no cranks were to be found, they stopped being as thorough and careful. It was on the twelfth floor that something went wrong. 

Rachel was meandering down a hallway with Alice, the two humming songs in tune with each other, Alice’s flashlight sweeping over the rooms they passed. There hadn’t been any solar panels found but there had been wires that lead upwards through the floors, wires that Braydon had recognised from a certain company that once made solar panels. Now everyone was searching the upper floors to find where the wires were coming from. 

Behind her, Rachel heard a heavy shuffling. She glanced over her shoulder, assuming it was one of the boys, however nothing was there. She squinted through the darkness, clicking her tongue and calling out, “Oi, stop tryna scare us.” Alice turned as well, swinging her flashlight down the hall. 

It was silent for several seconds before something slammed into the glass directly beside Rachel, causing the woman to flinch, bringing her gun up towards it, finger on the trigger. The banging continued and Alice brought the flashlight to the glass wall. 

A bloodied mess was there, more splattering with every hit against the wall. Vaguely, Rachel could make out the outline of a face pressing against the glass, hands slipping through the dark liquid dripping from the wall. 

“Should we kill it?” Alice whispered. 

“Probably for the best,” Rachel grunted in reply. “Keep it from escapin’ at least. Won’t hafta deal with it later.” Alice nodded, moving to another part of the wall and shining her light inside. She gasped and Rachel looked to her frantically.

“There’s  _ more _ .” 

Rachel crowded against her love, catching a glimpse inside the room just before the crank followed and slammed itself against the glass again. There had been multiple cranks inside the room, approximately five from what Rachel could see. They were all in various states, but looked far past Gone. 

“Then we better move before all of them see us.” It was different, these cranks-- normally they acted with a hive-like mind, following each other around and going after the same things, but these ones apparently thought differently. Rachel shuffled past Alice, pulling her down the hallway, pressing the flashlight against her thigh so as to not attract the other cranks’ attention. 

They wandered for minutes more, cautiously observing each room and making sure doors were shut and locked. The slight banging slowly fell away as they drew farther and farther away from the room. 

A sudden groaning sounded in the distance, mingling with even more groans and slowly growing in volume as they neared the end of the hall where double doors were…  _ boarded up _ double doors.There looked to be rectangular, small windows on the doors, broken glass over the floor. As Alice shone her light over the doors, they could see dark liquid covering the window and running over the boards. The groaning was emanating from inside wherever these doors led. 

Alice stepped close to the door and brought her flashlight up to her cheek, bringing the light to eye level as she looked through the broken glass. She was only able to look for  _ seconds _ before a hand shot out, clawing for her hair. Rachel abruptly grasped her love’s jacket and dragged her back before the arm could touch the brunette. 

Another arm shot out after the first and a shadowed face appeared in the broken opening. The growls became angrier, louder, and banging started against the door. Rachel turned to Alice, rubbing her thumb on the shorter’s arm, voice soft, despite the urgency. 

“What’d ya see?”

Alice gulped, eyes wide as she watched the cranks in the room fight to get to the opening in the door. “Hundreds. Just…  _ hundreds _ of cranks. It-it looked like-like a large room, like an office that only had cubicles, except… the cubicles were gone, shoved against other doors as barricades. I don’t--”

She broke off and Rachel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Prolly a faction thinkin’ they could hide out here. Stayed together in the same large space. Someone got infected and they di’n’t move. The smart ones got out ‘fore e’eryone went Gone and boarded them up in here. No wonder this place looks so abandoned.” 

Alice nodded slowly, eyes stuck on the hands clawing against the door and boards. “They must have been there for a long time…”

“Yeah,” the blonde breathed, pressing herself against Alice to comfort the smaller. “Should be safe if it’s held this long. Let’s get back to the others and tell ‘em, figure out what to do.” Alice hummed quietly and the two turned from the doors and the groaning, pushing it to the backs of their minds. 

They were silent as they walked back down the hallway, somber mood falling over them. The groaning fell away and they passed the glass room of cranks again, still hitting the wall, even harsher as they walked past. They were quick on their feet as they hurried back to the stairwell, walking even quicker as they neared, hearing quiet chatter from their family. 

As they turned a corner, Rachel could see only a few of them had returned from their exploration and Rachel huffed, immediately speaking to Jamie, Byron, Jordan, and Jayden. “Looks to be an old faction. Boarded up in a big room. Found some cranks in a separate room too.”

Jamie pinched his lips, nodding from his place against Byron’s chest. “We… found a room. Had a whole bunch of… kids in it.  _ Kids _ . There were at least twenty just laying there… holes in their heads…” his breath hitched and Rachel could see him swallow. From beside her Alice gasped softly.

“Jamie…”

The brunet shook his head, pressing his face into the crook of Byron’s neck. “Let’s just get this over with and get outta here.” 

Rachel nodded in agreement, looking over at Jordan and Jayden, the twins with grim looks on their faces. Quiet footsteps sounded and the group of six turned to them, watching the rest of their group walk towards them, Newt at the back of the pack, looking nauseous. As they gathered together, everyone began explaining. Each of them had found something to do with cranks each way they went. They had all come to the consensus that a group had resided here but something went wrong. 

“They all look plenty trapped,” Braydon sighed, “but I understand if you guys want to head out.”

Against every instinct, ever pore in her body screaming at her… Rachel shook her head. “Nah, we need the panels. They’ve been trapped this long, what’s a bit more time?” She was met with nods and sounds of agreement. “Now let’s head up.” 

And then they were moving again, more subdued than before, cautiousness in every step. The cranks had reminded them of where they were, that nowhere was safe. That even the most abandoned looking buildings have secrets to hide. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, at first, this whole fiasco was only meant to be 2 parts... but uh, it kind of ran away from me and got really long. Like... REALLY long. And so I decided to split it up once more, because I'm a slut for keeping chapters around the same length. So here's this, please enjoy!

The silence was overbearing. Everyone was morose with their revelations. It brought back the memories of what the sun flares caused. The factions it spawned between the many people in each city. People segregated based on cities, based on their views of what the sun flares were. Cities and towns bound together to protect their resources and keep them hidden. 

People turned against each other so quickly, when resources were limited, how quickly they turned to violence. The governments tried their best to keep the factions under control, to make it seem like they didn’t exist… because with the factions came the violence and the hoarding of precious resources. 

When the world fell into destruction, the people needed to come together. 

Rachel whipped her head around when something banged against the stair rail. Jordan was there, clutching his flashlight to his chest, staring at the rail with wide eyes. Rachel clicked her tongue, he must have zoned out or something, hitting his light against the handrail. After the pause to look at what caused the noise, everyone continued upwards. 

They continued until they found another door opening, the door hanging off one hinge and opened inwards. Braydon led the way inside, Nikos directly behind him. Each of them piled in after him, looking around the hallway. 

As the flashlights trained down the hallway, Rachel could see bodies lying about the hall, all slumped against each other and covering the floor. The group moved forward quietly, stepping around and over the bodies that were in a slow state of decay. A smell wafted over to them as they went further into the room, pungent to their noses and causing Rachel to cover her nose with her wrist. Beside her, Newt and Alice coughed, covering their noses as well. 

They were careful to not disturb the bodies that were propped against the wall. Looking at their resting faces, Rachel could see the black veins thick against some of their faces. Bullet wounds were obvious in their foreheads, having been taken out directly in the killzone. However, a few of the bodies that were pushed against each other had the same bullet wounds but they weren’t covered in black veins. They weren’t cranks. 

Someone killed them in cold blood. Someone killed these people when they weren’t cranks. To think someone would lose their humanity so easily. WCKD destroyed these people’s lives. Made them turn against each other when they released the Flare. 

Rachel ground her teeth together, anger coursing through her veins. To see something like this… it was despicable. She didn't think the world would ever be put right again. Even if a cure was found… everyone was too far gone on survival instincts to ever return to how things were before. 

There was no way the people that have lived through the sun flares, the Scorch and the cranks would stop fighting. 

“Who’s there?” 

The suddenness of the voice brought everyone to a halt. Guns trained into the darkness towards the voice’s direction. They were silent, merely waiting. Rachel motioned to Alice behind her, having the woman direct her flashlight into the dark. Seeing nothing, Rachel called out, voice gruff, echoing into the darkness. 

“Where are you? Get out here into the light… now!” She wasn’t going to beat around the bush. She wanted whoever spoke out in front of them where they could see him. She wanted to know if he was dangerous. If he could harm her family. 

The rest of the flashlights focussed into the dark where Alice had pointed hers. They illuminated the area and a leg came from behind a wall. Half a body was behind the wall and slowly creeped around the corner. Rachel could see a crazed look in his eyes, and as he further came around the corner she could see dark veins crawling up his arms. 

Something changed in his eyes and he took a few steps forwards, Rachel taking no chances and shooting her rifle directly to his right, causing him to flinch back. “You stay there.” She held the stranger’s gaze, glaring at him. “Were you part of the faction on the lower floors?”

The stranger’s hands twitched, fingers tensing into clawlike features. His eyes widened and Rachel could barely make out the darkened vitreous gel within his eyes, darkened fluid just on the cusp of the whites of his eyes. He was a crank… just not fully Gone. “I… there was-- I, I don't, memory… can't…” He muttered incoherently. His head bowed against his chest and Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Do you have a name?” His head shot up to her again, wide eyes staring uncomfortably at her. He didn't make any sound, just… stared. Rachel adjusted her rifle in her arms, causing the crank to look at her more intensely. 

From behind Rachel, Evan’s voice came through, softer than Rachel has heard in months. “Can you tell us what happened?” 

As if being hit by a switch, the dark cloud over the crank’s eyes dissipated and a somber look came over his face. “I--I… a mess, infection. We-- we moved out here,” his head twitched sideways, claw like hand reaching up and nails biting into his neck. His breathing became rougher and his other hand was grasping at air. “Dead… all gone… one person down-- rest followed. None left, had to-- kill all, none safe…” he muttered quickly, disconnected sentences. “Never safe again… got bit...bit-- bit... bit…”

He trailed off and Rachel quirked an eyebrow. She kept her eyes on the crank but whispered in Alice’s direction. “He’s killed these people. Took these ones out so he’d be safe but it looks like it didn't work.” 

“Think these were the people to block off that large grouping of cranks from earlier?” Alice muttered back. 

Before Rachel could confirm, the crank slammed a hand against the wall. “Had to! We had to! Only way to be safe!” His voice rose in volume and he kept hitting the wall. He shouted crazy things, voice rising, sounding even crazier as he spoke. Rachel took a step back, arm popping out to rest in front of Alice and Newt. 

She glared at the crank, lips pursing in irritation. “Be ready to leave. He’s too close to Gone to be safe.” 

And as if on cue, as soon as she finished speaking, the crank screeched loudly, lunging toward the group. Rachel had no hesitation, hand coming back to hold onto the rifle and fire off a quick set of rounds. They landed in the crank with quick succession, his body convulsing and falling to the ground. Taking no time at all Rachel stomped forwards and fire three shots into the crank’s head. 

She looked back up at her family, hands automatically moving to replace the magazine clip. “Let’s get out of here. This place isn’t safe and this only further proved that.” 

She was met with nods and the group began to walk back through the body covered hallway and to the stairwell. Jordan and Jayden were at the back of the group and were the first out onto the stairwell. 

A sudden screeching sounded from above and abruptly a crank came careening on top of Jayden, knocking the scientist to the ground. Rachel could see Jordan react quickly and slam his backpack into the crank’s head, knocking it into the handrail, listening to it screech as it slid through the bars and fell down the stairs. Yells followed, the group trying to get towards the twins. 

Jordan was quick to lift his brother and the two were pushed back by another crank that came leaping after them. Jason was the next at the door and he yelled at them, the two running back down the way they came. “Get the berg! Get out of here now!” Another crank came climbing over the handrail, leaping on top of Jason and knocking him back into the hallway and making him fall into Raphael. 

The two large men grappled with the crank, Raphael pulling it off Jason and to the floor, straddling it’s middle and laying punches into its face. Despite the ruckus, Rachel slowly moved towards the stairs, rifle trained on the doorway, Alice’s flashlight illuminating her way. She carefully stepped out onto the stairwell floor, metal clinking as she stepped on it. 

She glanced up the stairs, flicking her head back towards the room, causing Alice to come towards her and shine the flashlight up the stairs. Staring back at them, black specks illuminated by the light, were three cranks. Their veins were prominent against their skin, black fluid dripping down their faces. One was missing half their jaw, tongue flicking outwards through the large hole. 

Rachel swallowed thickly. Why weren’t they moving? Why had the other ones attacked but these observed? Then she saw it. The crank directly in the center, arms out as if to hold the other two back, that was the same crank she and Alice had seen before. From that room, the one that had rammed himself into the glass wall. 

Head tilting to the side, Rachel watched as the crank copied her movement, a curiosity in his eyes that was not there before. Her voice came as an astonished whisper, the only sound besides labored breathing. “He’s not Gone yet.” 

A large grin came across the crank’s face, eyes widening as he stared at Rachel and Alice. There was a certain clarity in his eyes, despite the darkness, despite the dark veins. Rachel had come across many cranks in her lifetime, but for one to show this level of clarity at his stage, he must be fighting the Flare off with all he could. 

They were at a minor standstill, observing what the cranks would do. They weren’t safe to keep alive, didn’t have a level of trust and admiration for the group as Evan did. Maybe they could be reasoned with, to let them pass before they were entirely Gone. 

Rachel opened her mouth to ask, to bring something out of the silence, when something grasped her leg and pulled her to the floor, rifle falling from her hands as she slid against eh handrail. Reflex came into play and her hands shot up, grasping to the top bar of the rail, sharp claws digging into her ankle, causing her to cry out. Yells were sudden in her ears and something came vaulting over her hands, falling through the dark and latching onto whatever had grabbed Rachel. 

Weight pulled at her hands and another’s hands scrabbled against her own, putting pressure onto her fingers to help her hold on. Her wrists were grabbed roughly by multiple hands and then she was being yanked upwards, the weight on her leg slipping with every pull. 

Rachel glanced downwards, just barely catching sight of the cranks she recognized swinging back and forth on the crank that Jordan and Jayden had shoved off through the handrail before. He was clawing at the other crank, causing its grip to slacken and with a sudden pull to her hands, Rachel used her other heel to rub against the crank’s hand, sending the two falling down through the stairwell, screeches following as they clanged against the metal stairs and handrails. 

She was pulled back through the handrail, gasping for breath. Alice was immediately on her leg, pulling her jeans upwards and wrapping a thick bandana on her ankle. Despite this, Rachel shoved her love off, standing, feeling little to no pain, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she turned her gaze to the two remaining cranks. 

When her eyes met the other two, as if a switch was flicked, they leaped forwards, vaulting over the group on the stairs, hands grasping at shoulders and pulling down on Newt, the blond letting out a sharp gasp as he fell backwards on the stairs, rolling down with the cranks, leg being caught by Braydon as he scrambled against the floor. 

A sharp yell left Newt and Mason moved to kick the cranks off him, Byron helping as Braydon dragged Newt back up the stairs. Each of them paused as screeching began to echo upwards, bouncing off the walls and through the stairs. There was an intense pounding below them and the only logical conclusion was that somehow, the cranks from that large room had gotten free, or cranks of some sort were coming after them. 

Jason peered over the handrail and shined a flashlight downwards, spotting cranks upon cranks piling over each other to climb the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit!” He spun and gripped Braydon’s arm, flashlight falling from his grasp. “Time to go!” Braydon was yanked up to his feet and then he pulled Newt up as well. 

Seeing the boys getting to their feet Rachel turned to go up the stairs, the path being unblocked nowt aht the cranks were gone. She didn’t know what floor led to the roof, but the stairs had to be a good guess to get there. They were safer in the open air than they were in this enclosed building. 

Throwing all precaution to the wind, Rachel began taking the stairs two steps at a time, only pausing when she heard a sharp yelp, glancing back to see Newt collapsed again, hands clutching his knee. She cursed beneath her breath, glancing over the others. 

“ _ Shuck _ ,” Newt hissed, fingers clawing into his leg, “Just leave me behind! I’ll only slow you down!” Rachel stepped down, going to punch some sense into him, when Byron abruptly dragged the blond up, pulling a lanky arm over his shoulders. 

“You’re slowing us down by talking about it!” He exclaimed. Braydon came next, yanking Newt’s other arm over his shoulder. Byron met Rachel’s eyes, nodding firmly. “We aren’t leaving  _ anyone _ behind.” 

Rachel grinned despite the situation and spun back around, bounding up the stairs ahead of the others. She moved quickly, keeping her rifle trained above her, eyesight completely focussed on finding anything moving in the dark. Nikos came up right beside her, his own gun held to his shoulder, flinging open doors and peering into them so no one would get separated again. 

The few times she could look behind her she could see Byron and Braydon supporting Newt the best they could, Alice and Jamie surrounding them on both sides, one in front and the other behind. She hadn’t noticed before but Raphael was supporting a shockingly blank Evan, the leader having seemingly dropped off into his own head. Mason and Jason were pulling up the rear, keeping their eyes on the group of cranks piling over the stairs after them, shooting any that got too close. 

As she ran up the stairs, she had to begin ducking, yelling warnings back at everyone else, sharp metal pieces hanging from the ceiling. The floor became messier and riddled with debris. As she climbed a flight above everyone else, Nikos beside her, the stairs cut off, they were collapsed and she realized that’s where the hanging metal had come from. Something had destroyed these stairs to keep people away. 

Cursing, Rachel huffed and pulled away from Nikos, the Latino letting out a string of spanish curses, slamming his gun against the broken rock and metal in frustration. Rachel moved back down the stairs, kicking open a door and letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She peered into the room she landed in, spying a few signs that led her to believe this had been a type of relaxation room, chairs overturned and posters peeling from the walls. Seeing nothing dangerous, she turned back to the stairwell and called Nikos down. 

When the Latino was beside her, she gestured through the room and double doors that were on the other side of the spacious area. “Think there’sa way to get ta the other side of the buildin’ through there?”

“A building this big has to have another stairwell doesn’t it?” Nikos replied, frown firm on his face. He was unhappy that they were relatively trapped by cranks, that they didn’t have any way to know how this building was mapped out. 

Rachel nodded, turning back to the other stairwell and waving the group through. As soon as Jason and Mason were through the door, she slammed it shut, pointing over to an upturned couch. “Grab that and drag it here. Can’t exactly lock the doors so we gotta barricade.” The brothers were quick to act and they dragged several other pieces of furniture in front of the door, putting as much weight as they could in front of it. 

Newt was resting against a wall, holding himself up against Alice as the others began lifting furniture over to the door, Evan propped sitting down beside him. There was a sudden gasp, followed by something slamming to the ground. Rachel flung her head in the direction of the noise, pain tingling up her neck and head as she gave herself whiplash. She spotted Jamie by Byron, the brunet pressing a white cloth to Byron’s forearm, the cloth quickly being dyed a dark color. 

“What the hell happened?” Rachel called back, momentarily distracted. 

Byron grunted, wincing as Jamie put pressure on the wound. “Can’t see shit in here and this goddamn thing sliced up my arm.” The admission was met with curses. 

Then suddenly, slamming began on the door they were barricading. Glancing over, Braydon had been the only one to even think of the possibility happen and Rachel felt fear bind through her body, seeing the door slam so roughly with force that it sent Braydon flying forwards, making him trip over rubble on the ground, feet sliding from underneath him, head slamming into the ground that left an ear-splitting crack echoing in Rachel’s ears. 

Nikos was first to break through is stupor, yelling Braydon’s name, sliding to his knees to check the unconscious boy’s pulse and find out if anything was broken. Raphael was next to move, brushing past Rachel as he slammed his hands against the furniture piled against the door and pushing back as the cranks slammed into the door in the stairwell. Mason joined him, the two bulky men putting their whole weight into pushing back against the piling force. Rachel and Jason were quick to shove more furniture against the door, lodging large pieces anyway they could. 

The cranks weren’t letting up their shoving, more frantic as force just kept pushing against their barricade. “Fuck,” she whispered, looking over the room, feeling an exhaustion settle in her bones. She shook the feeling off, not wanting to give in. Giving in to that feeling was the difference between life or death. If she gave up then none of them would get out of this. She stooped to one knee beside Nikos holding Braydon still. “How bad?” 

“I can’t tell much but he’s not bleeding,” Nikos said, voice raspy. When he brought his head up to meet gazes with Rachel she could see unshed tears in his eyes. “His head feels fine but there’s only so much I can do without proper medical equipment.” One tear trickled over his eyelid and down his cheek, getting caught in the sweat and grime already there. “I’m not leaving him here Rachel.” 

Rachel shook her head, scoffing at him. “No one said we were leaving him. Raph can pile him over his shoulders, bein’ as out of commission he is with havin’ to make sure Evan doesn’t crank out on us.” Nikos nodded. “We’ll hafta make a run for the doors, runnin’ the whole way down wherever we find. I need you level headed with me Nikos.” The Latino nodded, and Rachel clapped her hand against his shoulder. “We’re gettin’ outta here. Love of my life is here after all.” 

The phrase left a wry smirk on Nikos’ lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Rachel lifted herself up and moved to Jamie and Byron, Jamie frantically babbling as Byron just listened. She put a hand softly on Jamie’s shoulder, the small boy flinching away from her and looking up, tears streaking down his face, leaving gross tracks in the dirt covering his face. She looked to Byron, seeing the apathetic face as blank as ever. “You good?”

“As long as Jam just wraps this around my arm,” he answered, nodding. “I won’t be able to carry Newt like this, especially not with Bray down for the count.” Rachel hummed, nodding as she pondered. She looked at Jamie again, head tilting in question. 

“Think you an’ Al can handle supportin’ Newt? You’ll get gimpy here as cover but that’s ‘bout it.” Jamie took a deep breath and nodded. Rachel could see the steeliness come over his features, see the shaking in his shoulders subside. 

“We’ve got to get out of here somehow, right?” Rachel squeezed his shoulder, standing again, rolling her ankle and wincing at the now tangible sharp pain. 

“We’re gonna hafta run for it,” she said, voice rising in volume to be heard clearly over the cranks. “I don’t know where those doors lead, but we need to go through ‘em to stand a chance. Gotta hope the contractors of this place weren’t buildin’ outta their asses when they thought this place up and put another stairwell somewhere.” She pointed at Raph. “You’ll needa get Braydon over ya shoulders and watch Ev. You’ll already be too focussed on Ev anyways so might as well put your distractedness ta use.” The large blond nodded, pressing his weight back into the barricade. 

“Al and Jamie will carry Newt with them, Byron as their cover. Jason, Mason, y’all up to playin’ bait for if it gets tough?” She looked to the auburn haired twins, the two sharing a look before nodding at her. “Alright, you cover our rear, do  _ not _ let anything get too close. Nikos and I will run ahead, scope things out to keep our fronts safe.” She turned her back to them, walking steadily to the doors. “We do our jobs and we’ll get outta this alive.” 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ran away from me too but I didn't want to separate it into two chapters again too. I don't even know how it got so long...???? All the characters were screaming at me and I didn't let it end. I probably didn't help myself with listening to Dynasty while writing Newt's bit, I almost had to go back and watch the movie 250 all over again to get it right, but I can still remember a bunch pretty damn vividly. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

As soon as she got to the doors, she pressed one open, rifle swinging against her stomach as she looked into the dark. Nikos was beside her in seconds, opening the other door. He turned to her and they shared a look, nodding as they turned back to the group... their family. 

“Let’s get a move on y’all.” 

And with that cue, everyone was in motion. Alice moved to place Newt’s arm over her shoulders, Jamie walking over with Byron and placing Newt’s other arm over his shoulders. They each wrapped an arm around his waist and began moving towards the doors, Byron right behind them, rifle shoulder strap hanging over his shoulder, uninjured hand plastered to it, once white cloth firmly tied around his injured forearm. 

Raphael was next to move, sharing a look with Jason and Mason before he moved away, carefully pulling Braydon into a sitting position and pulling the unconscious boy over one shoulder, adjusting until Braydon was laying across both shoulders, arms and legs hanging limply. He moved carefully over to Evan, the blond snapping his head up at Raphael’s quiet call of his name. 

He didn’t look any worse than normal, the obvious black veins crawling up his neck and over his ears, steadily growing until they could reach his face. He acted strange however. Like he was on some type of drug. But they had concluded that WCKD’s Serum was no longer working on him as well as it once did and the Serum never left him like this. He acted… like he had taken Bliss.

Raphael pulled Evan to his feet, the latter stumbling into the larger’s chest. Rachel glared at the two until Raphael looked over at her. He grimaced and nodded once, looking away in shame and Rachel bristled with anger. Had Evan taken Bliss during all this chaos? Had they found Bliss and kept that  _ hidden _ ? She took a deep breath, drawing her gaze away from the drugged boy, calming her emotions. 

She couldn’t let this get to her, she had to stay firm in her actions. She was one of the few still thinking properly, she had to lead them out of here. She had no room for mistakes.

Alice, Newt, and Jamie steadily came closer, just behind Nikos and Rachel-- Raphael and his two packages pulling up behind them. Rachel then called over to Jason and Mason, the two firm in holding down the barricade. “We’ll go out first, when it’s been five minutes, y’all come after us, got it? No more, no less. Five minutes and you come.” 

“We hear you Rache,” Jason answered, Mason throwing his own nod to her. She wet her lips and turned to Nikos. In an unspoken agreement they began a steady pace forwards, hearing their family shuffle behind them. 

They started quickly, rushing down halls to check in empty rooms and looking for any signs that lead to stairs. Even with all the windows it was still dark, a testament to how long they’ve been in this building if the sun has already set and left the Scorch in a dark light. Rachel and Nikos moved together, splitting off only at crossroads to decide which area wouldn’t leave them to a dead end, and when they found these areas they marked them with a glowing flashlight pointing down the direction they went-- leaving a path for Mason and Jason to follow. They mapped the way, steadily following promising signs that could possibly give them a chance out of here, marking areas that they could potentially hide out in… just in case. 

Then, they were given hope. Hope in the form of a hanging sign that blaringly screamed at them about stairs being just before them. A grin came across her face and a breathy laugh left her. They weren’t condemned to death yet. They could get out of here. 

She and Nikos walked forwards more, following sign after sign that led them to large double doors. The two pushed them open together, breath being knocked out of their chests at the sight they found. 

A large glass walkway was before them, glass walls covering the entire area, large double doors mirrored on the other side of it. When looking down, Rachel could see the glass suspended over a large room, black all throughout it… except for the small specs of light that were being kicked around. And with those small specs, she could see the cranks, hundreds of cranks all ramming into each other. 

That must have been the room she and Alice found earlier. The one boarded up. But why were there flashlights down there? The not fully Gone crank flashed in her mind. The cranks that still seemed to understand what was going on, the one that had leaped over the handrail to pull the crank off Rachel’s leg. She recalls the blood that wasn’t quite dry on the people that were shot in the head. She remembers the nonexistent state of decay the bodies were in, how well preserved they were. 

This didn’t happen a few years ago, or even months. This was recent. Recent enough to still have people not fully Gone and to still be wary of their actions. Too recent for any cranks to go wandering out into the Scorch. They had gone right into a death trap from the start. 

She slammed her hand against the doorway, cursing and growling at everything. She exhaled an angry breath from her nose, gripping the gun hanging over her front. “Let’s go now.” And she led her family out onto the walkway, walking confidently down it and staring straight ahead. She would not draw attention to what she had seen. If they saw it for themselves, then so be it, but she would not point it out. 

There were a few gasps from behind her, but they kept quiet with any explanations. It was better if everyone wasn’t freaking out about it right that second. They could freak out later, get answers later. She grit her teeth, setting a quick pace that Nikos kept up beside her. The two pulled ahead of the group, walking confidently and warily over the glass walkway towards the set of doors at the other end. 

Just as she and Nikos reached the doors, opening them and shining a flashlight, screeching sounded behind them, off in the distance. Footsteps thundered from where they came and Rachel cursed, throwing her arm out over the door and yelling, “Go now! Jason and Mason are headed this way! Lets  _ go! _ ”

She watched frantically as Alice and Jamie sped up, dragging Newt more than supporting him now. Raphael was shoving a blank Evan forwards, adjusting Braydon over his shoulders again. She watched them move, her and Nikos watching them. They couldn’t move to help, everyone had their part. Everyone had to do what they were assigned. 

That’s the only way this could work. 

And then there was a sudden banging as the doors they had just come through slammed open, Jason stumbling through, Mason backing into the corridor behind him, shooting bullet after bullet into the pack of cranks that came floundering around the corner. The screeches and groans were deafening, and Rachel could feel her bones chill in horror. 

They couldn’t die here. Not in this place. Not like this. So… she broke her own rule. 

With a heaving breath and a rush of adrenaline, Rachel shot forwards, swinging her own rifle behind her, slamming into her back thanks to the shoulder strap. She rushed over to Raphael, past her love and Jamie, past Byron and Newt. And with a grunt, she grabbed Evan around the waist, bending at her knees and pulling the boy over her shoulder. Then she spun around and  _ sprinted _ . 

Gunshots fired off behind her and she screamed over the noise, “ _ Nikos _ , take point  _ now! _ ” The Latino nodded, grim look on his face and he left through the doors, leaving them swinging shut behind him. Rachel pushed past the small group supporting Newt slamming into the doors with too much force, nearly sending herself and Evan sprawling to the floor. 

She steadied herself against the wall, head turning back to see Alice push through the doors next, Jamie and Newt right behind her. “Rac-”

“Not  _ now! _ ” Rachel yelled back, interrupting Alice. Rachel could see the brunette’s breath hitch andhurt fill her eyes but she shook her head. “We  _ don’t _ have time for this Al. Go  _ now _ .” The group quickly stumbled past, dragging a panting Newt past and Rachel steadied her gun against her hip, other hand clutching tightly at Evan’s legs hanging over her front. She aimed at the doors, listening as gunshots echoed and cranks roared. 

She started a steady walk backwards, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Byron, Raphael, Braydon, Mason, and Jason haven't come through yet. Her boys were still in there trying to give them some time. They would lay down their lives before letting one crank slip through. 

Just as she reached a turning point, the doors slammed open and a crank stood there, eyes wide and black fluid dripping from its lips. It hissed, taking steps towards her, arms flinching outwards at unnatural angles, hands clawing outwards as it stepped forwards erratically. 

Closing her eyes momentarily, she allowed herself some respite at seeing the crank. Something happened to her boys. That was the only way this one slipped through. She wasn't able to get them all out of here.

She failed.

Eyes snapping open at the sound of the crank picking up speed, snarling growing closer, Rachel steadied herself and adjusted her one-handed grip on her gun, laying it against her hip as leverage. And then, under her breath, she spoke softly, a mere whisper even to her ears, “This is for them you shit eating bastard.” And then she pressed the trigger. 

Bullets rained down upon the single crank and she let loose a scream. She let her frustrations out at this crank until the rifle stopped firing, clicking with each press of the trigger. She breathed heavily, tossing her weapon against her back once more, gritting her teeth as she turned from the hall, heading in the direction a sign pointed that led to stairs. 

She was stopped by a voice, a voice she didn't think she’d hear again. 

“Well damn Rache, glad I didn't step through those doors earlier,” came Jason’s deep tenor voice. A gasp left her against her will and she flinched back to the hall, eyes stinging as she saw her boys come through the doors, every single one of them alright. 

“Oh thank god,” she breathed, shoulders sagging. The weight of Evan beared down on her, reminding her of what she promised to do. “The others ran ahead, got to some stairs.” 

Jason nodded, coming to stand just before her. “I didn’t get to see much but we managed to kill all the cranks that initially followed us, except,” he paused jaw straining as he ground his teeth together. 

“‘cept what?”

Raphael spoke up, grunting as he adjusted Braydon once again. “The ruckus we made got the pit’s ‘tention. They broke through the doors and are headed up. We prolly have ten minutes to get outta here.” Rachel grimaced, nails digging into her thigh. 

“Le’s get to the roof and see what Jo and Jay did.”

  
  
  


Newt tried to get his legs beneath him. He  _ hated _ having to be supported like this. It reminded him of something he felt he didn't want to remember. Of running through a city in this same position, chaos erupting all around. He hadn’t had a vivid memory about it but he recognized the feeling of having to rely on someone else. 

He was useless then too. 

A sharp nail pinched his side and he flinched away from it, jostling both Jamie and Alice as they dragged him up the stairs. He glanced over to Alice, the girl a sharp glare steady on her face, gaze stayed on the stairs she walked up. 

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.” Her breath was slightly labored from the effort it took to put into carrying a boy her weight up stairs. And despite this, she was steady. Her body was firm against Newt’s side, her grip tight against him. Everything in her stance screamed that she would not fail the task she was given. “You weren't the only one hurt.”

There was a sudden exclamation above them and suddenly light poured into the dark stairwell, a dim light that was nothing like the flashlights they used. Jamie’s breath hitched and the two pulled Newt tighter between them, quickening their pace up the stairs. 

And then they were greeted by light that was bright against the darkness they stood. Nikos was in the doorway, shadow being casted back at them. The three quickly moved forwards, Newt trying to at least limp, take weight from Alice and Jamie’s shoulders, keep himself up to not be dead weight.

They left the dark stairwell, sunset stark against the building, shining over them. A look at the sky left Newt breathless. Despite their situation, despite where they were… the sky was a shining ray of beauty. 

Colors of orange, red, and purple spread across the sky, delving into the soft blue where the setting sun’s light had yet to reach. In the distance, clouds covered the blend of colors, wispy and white against the bright colors. They blended together nicely, a natural bloom of color that Newt had never seen before. 

He was amazed to see a place as deadly as the Scorch look so beautiful. 

The group of four’s amazement was cut short as the rooftop door slammed open, Nikos flinging his rifle up and aiming to the door, only to drop it in relief, seeing the rest of the group filter out of the dark stairs and into the dim light. 

Rachel was quick to move, setting Evan down and coming over to Nikos. “Anythin’ on Jo and Jay?” Nikos shook his head, gaze travelling all over the sky. Rachel followed him both scanning the sky for something that wasn’t there. “Dammit.”

They stood there, each of them scanning for any sign of a flying aircraft coming to them, to get them out of there. They were so focussed on their task, it came as a surprise when the first bang sounded against the rooftop door. 

Curses flew and Byron was first at the door, slamming his whole body into it and firmly planting his feet, crushing a scratched and bloody arm between the door and the doorway at the elbow joint, a squelching sound following shortly after. Mason was quick to join Byron at the door, both placing their full weight against it, pushing and pushing until the arm fell to the ground and the door was safely shut again. 

Slams proceeded to follow and the two were forced back at the force of it. Jason squeezed against Byron’s other side and planted his feet, pressing his shoulder against the door, legs straining as he planted himself firmly. 

Newt’s breath hitched and he stumbled in Alice and Jamie’s arms. They caught him, keeping his weight up and he tried to get himself together. They couldn’t let this make them lose hope. This was just a minor setback like all the other things they faced in this building. Jordan and Jayden would get here and they would get out of here. 

Then a crashing sound came. Glass shattered below them and it caused Rachel and Nikos to run to the side of the building, nearly throwing themselves over at the waist to look down. Rachel shouted, pushing away from the overhang. Her voice was loud as she shouted to each of them. 

“Not all the cranks are behind that door. They’re on the floor below us!” 

“How the  _ hell _ did they think of that?” Nikos exclaimed back. 

“Remember that thing Jayden told us one time,” Jamie said, pausing to look around the rooftop and sky. “Cranks that aren’t fully Gone can still use their brain, they can still think even if its unconsciously. They aren’t aware but the Flare is taking control of their brain and still thinking how to solve problems. These cranks aren’t completely Gone. The Flare wants to infect anyone that’s healthy. It wants new hosts.” 

Newt swallowed thickly. The cranks were searching to use them as hosts? Hosts for the Flare? Was that a quality of the Flare that it took on? He remembers Jayden referring to the Flare as a parasitic disease and he didn’t know much about the scientific intricacies but parasite implies an invader. The Flare invades a person’s brain and steals their muscular functions. 

“So they’re comin’ after us through the next floor down? Fuckin’ hell,” Rachel huffed, dragging her hand through her hair. Newt gulped, feeling lightheaded. There was no way the cranks could climb up here, right? They wouldn’t be able to maneuver themselves out a window and up the wall of a building over hundreds of feet in the air. It wasn’t humanly possible. 

Except… cranks weren’t bound by human musculature. Cranks didn’t have the same pain receptors uninfected people had. 

“Shit,” Nikos murmured, backing away from the side of the building. “The buildings in enough ruin that they are clawing their way into the brick. They’re climbing up here whether we like it or not.” 

From beside him, Newt heard Alice gulp. He could feel Jamie tremble against his other side. The sound of cranks screeching and groaning, of the cranks slamming against the stairwell door, it was echoing all around him, all Newt could here. It was chaos that only brought back a chilling remembrance, shivers falling down his spine. 

He was hit with sounds of explosions, of gunshots and yelling. He could see nothing but his hearing was pounding viciously in his head, drowning out everything the people around him were saying. Darkness blurred around his eyes and he felt like a dark film was falling over his sight, filling his vision with a foggy view as he was hit with memories of fierce yelling, a pleading voice roaring in his ears. 

_ “Come on Newt please,” came the voice, breaking as it pleaded with him. Newt could hardly hear, his vision having blurred past the point of sight. He was unseeing but he could feel a trembling arm around his waist, fingers digging into his side as he was dragged. His legs weren’t moving, limply dragging behind him as he struggled to stay upright.  _

_ His feet fell from beneath him, tangling together with the person’s carrying him and then the arm around his waist was gone as they both fell to the ground. He could feel his chest convulse, a pressing pain against his throat, liquid spilling from his mouth. And then he blacked out. _

 

_ The next time he was up, he could see someone before him, someone important to him. The boy was looking at him, face drawn up in a heartbroken look, hands outstretched before him, hanging onto his own arms. A name shot through his head and he had to apologize. He apologized to the boy frantically, name a prayer on his lips. And then darkness was there once again.  _

 

_ Black dripped from his chin when he could next see. He was sitting above the boy this time, name falling in a whisper as he once again apologized. Then he remembered the gun hanging on the boy’s belt. And with frantic motions he grabbed it, pleading for forgiveness, bringing the gun up, cocking it back, and placing it against this head. He heard a sharp yell before his hand was hit and blacked out again.  _

 

_ Pain splattered over his cheek and he fell to his knees, fingers clawing at the concrete ground. His chest was heaving with every breath and his hand came up on his thigh. He felt the harsh edges of a knife and he knew. He knew he had to do something before he hurt this person. Before he hurt someone important to him. He unhooked the band over the handle and grasped the knife, yanking it from the sheath as the boy’s voice echoed once more, words muddled as darkness fell over him again.  _

 

_ He could hardly see what was before him and all he felt was an uncontrollable rage. He swung his arm back and forth, seeing a blur in front of him. All he felt at this blur was rage and hatred, he wanted to hurt them, wanted to see them die. Until the blurriness cleared and he saw the distraught face, the face of his Tommy, the one person… that he would follow anywhere. That he trusted beyond anything. His Tommy.  _

_ They came together and in a final, last ditch effort, he twisted his wrist, feeling nothing but numbness as he looked over his Tommy’s shoulder, Tommy’s arms around his body and clutching at his back. He was pulled away from Tommy, the boy before him looking down between them. When Tommy looked back up, he could feel his mouth twitch upwards and a breathless “Tommy” left him, body collapsing beneath him, his Tommy cushioning his fall the best he could. _

_ A ringing started in his ears, nothing but white noise as he laid against the ground, eyes blankly seeing a frantic boy whisper “No” over and over again.  _

_ And then… the darkness was back. _

With a gasp, Newt’s head flicked backwards, a sharp pain creeping up his neck at the force of it. There was abrupt screaming in his ears-- hearing slowly returning to him along with the sharp ringing from his memory. Loud bangs resounded and limp bodies were falling to the rooftop ground. He looked around blindly, being dragged by two people, harshly yanking and pulling his deadweight much like the boy in his memory had. 

His eyes moved around carefully, finally coming to rest on the sight of a large aircraft floating slightly off the building, cranks screeching beneath it, mangled arms and fingers reaching to the underside of the Berg, trying to grab hold. He could see Jayden standing in the unhooked hatch, gun in his arms as he aimed and took fire against any cranks that dared come too close. 

With a heaving breath, Newt planted his feet beneath him and walked forwards, taking marginal weight off Jamie and Alice’s shoulders, helping them carry him forwards as he limped, leg twinging with a once forgotten pain. The three of them were quick to move, focus entirely on the Berg.

When they finally reached the opened hatch, Newt was placed heavily on Jamie, Alice throwing herself against the Berg and pulling herself inside. She turned around quickly, grasping onto Newt’s outstretched hand, yanking him upwards, a throbbing pain falling through Newt’s shoulder, causing him to cry out. Alice cursed but dragged him inside the Berg before she slid back over to the edge on her knees, reaching out and grasping Jamie’s arm, dragging him up next. 

Newt clutched at his shoulder, the joint throbbing erratically. Jayden landed beside him, pressing against Newt’s hand that clawed at the pain in his shoulder. Jayden shoved against Newt’s hand, pressing his fingers there, causing Newt to yelp, clenching his teeth tightly, back arching against the metal of the Berg as if to get away from Jayden’s pressing hands. 

“His shoulder is dislocated!” Jayden exclaimed. Alice was next to slide against Newt’s side, pressing her hands against Newt’s other shoulder as if to hold him still. Jayden pressed a hand against Newt’s cheek, tapping his fingers to get the blond’s attention. “Tell me if at any time this hurts Newt.” 

At Newt’s nod, Jayden back away from him, hands falling against his arm and beginning to pull it outwards. The process was slow moving and Newt felt nothing as his arm was carefully moved and slid upwards, straightened out and limp against the metal flooring. As soon as his arm was placed above his normal shoulder level, pain a small stinging sensation, Jayden carefully directed his elbow to bend, Alice carefully lifting his head, causing an abrupt cry of pain to leave Newt. 

They paused in there motions, Newt breathing heavily with the throbbing in his arm, nodding at them when the he could handle the pain. Jayden slowly moved his arm behind his head and spoke carefully, “Newt I need you to reach for your other shoulder. Reach as far as you can.” 

As he did what Jayden asked, pain erupted over his entire arm, quickly followed by a deep soothingness that numbed his shoulder, fanning out and spreading over his arm. Alice helped him to sit up and Jayden carefully maneuvered his arm to be bent against his stomach. “Keep your arm in this position and do not jostle it too much. Anymore damage and you might not be able to use your arm again,” Jayden supplied, Newt nodding as he moved his other arm to be beneath the injured one, supporting it against his stomach. 

And then the two were gone, moving over to the edge of the Berg’s hatch, calling out for the others still on the rooftop. 

Newt looked around, eyes landing on where Raphael was laying Braydon against a wall, securing him into place with straps and rope that hung there. He tugged against the straps, making sure they were firm before he stood and went back to the Berg hatch, leaping from the opening as Alice and Jayden yelled at him. 

  
  
  


Jason grunted as the door against his shoulder was slammed again. The cranks behind it weren’t giving up and they were all running out of time. Cranks had already been pouring over the edge of the rooftop wall overhang one at a time, being taken out by Nikos. 

Honestly, Jason had almost given up. Although in hindsight he should have had more faith in Jordan and Jayden, the two miraculously appearing in the Berg that was now hovering over the edge of the building, cranks trying to pile onto the rungs beneath it, trying to run into the open hatch where Jayden stood, shooting a gun at any that came near. 

Alice, Newt, and Jamie had already boarded, Raphael quick behind them, Braydon over his shoulders. Jayden had thrown Rachel a gun when the hatch first opened and now she was helping Nikos take out any cranks that piled over the side of the building. 

Sweat dripped down his neck as he watched Raphael appear back on the roof, taking no time to sprint to where Evan was laying on the ground, curled into a tight ball. Raphael was quick to lift the blond in his arms carrying him to the Berg, tossing him inside to Jayden’s waiting arms and pulling Evan up into the Berg, Raphael following quickly after. 

“You two need to go.”

Jason looked over, eyes wide at Byron’s haggard expression. He could see on Byron’s other side, his brother looking back at him, questions in exhausted eyes. “You can’t hold this yourself Byron,” Jason said, grunting as a particularly hard slam banged against the door. 

“That’s why I’m telling you two to go first.” Byron gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as another harsh slam rocked them all forwards. “You have to go before they completely slam the door open and all three of us are stuck here. I’m faster than both of you too so I can run towards the Berg quicker.”

Jason leaned forwards, matching gazes with his twin, Mason nodding slightly, agreeing with Byron. Jason sighed heavily, sliding around so the door was at his back, feet digging into the rooftop to press backwards. “Alright, what’s the plan?” 

“After the next big push, you two go immediately, they take awhile to charge their force up to shake the whole door. When you run, tell Rachel and Nikos, drag them with you if you have to. And…  _ don’t look back _ .” Byron’s voice sent chills down Jason’s spine. He looked to the dark haired male, only seeing a determined look, eyes holding a steely gaze towards the Berg. Jason was filled with an intense softness, seeing the emotions filtering through the normally apathetic boy’s facial features.

It caused Jason to nod, looking to the Berg. “Alright.” He didn’t need to look over at Mason again, knowing his brother would already be prepared to run, be prepared to sprint to the Berg. 

They waited quietly, soft bangs of crank hands at their backs, breathing heavy and in unison together. They stabilized themselves and then the door heaved forwards, as soon as it slammed shut once more, the auburn haired twins took off, sprinting at Nikos and Rachel, the two much closer to the Berg than the other three had been. 

Jason moved faster than he had in a long time, running up to Rachel, the girl turning, snarl clear on her face but he disregarded it and grabbed her wrist, pulling her behind him into a run that matched his own, Rachel being forced to match his pace or she’d stumble and fall. He glanced to the side and caught Mason doing the same with Nikos, the Latino putting up a much stronger fight as he turned his head back, trying to twist his body, yelling Byron’s name. 

Oh how he wanted to turn around and see Byron, but he kept his word. Only when he finally reached where the Berg was, grabbed Rachel around the waist, and tossed her up into Alice’s waiting arms, did he allow himself to turn-- the sight chilling him to the bone despite the heat the Scorch gave. 

Byron was still against the door, each slam against it worse than the last. He was flung forwards, only to turn his body and rush back at the door, matching the slam the cranks had produced. Jason looked towards where Mason struggled to get nikos into the Berg, the Latino fighting everything to get to Byron. 

So with a grunt, Jason grabbed Nikos’ other arm, Mason grasping the other, and together the two swung him forwards, releasing his hands as he went flying at the Berg’s hatch, Jamie and Jayden both there, lithe arms scrabbling to catch Nikos’ bulky weight as he slid against the metal. 

For a second Jason thought the two weren’t going to be able to pull Nikos up all the way, the Latino having been so much bigger than them both, but Raphael came over, grabbing around Jamie and Jayden, laying his own large hands against the smaller boys’ and yanking up, Nikos dragging against the hatch. It was seconds later that he was up and nearly sprinting back to the edge of the hatch, looking like he wanted to jump back onto the roof, but Jamie held him still, the smaller’s own gaze resting on the distant rooftop.

Jason shared a look with Mason and the two glanced back. Jason could hardly hear the abrupt scream from Jamie, his eyes widening as Byron sprinted towards them, the door flinging open behind him and cranks spilling out, arms flying as they ran after Byron, impossibly fast as they neared the Berg. 

Cursing, Jason pulled himself into the hovering Berg, kicking his legs out as something brushed his leg, glancing down to see crank hands grasping at the rungs beneath the aircraft. He kicked them away, arms straining as he pulled himself forwards, Mason doing the same. Jayden was quick to Mason’s side, the two embracing, faces buried against each other, unintelligible murmurs following quickly after. 

Jason sat on the metal, watching with wide eyes as Byron sprinted towards the Berg, white cloth on his injured arm flying behind him. He vaguely heard someone shouting behind him, yelling for Jordan to get ready to go. The cranks would be able to jump, they’d be able to climb aboard if they were too close. 

The Berg rose marginally and Jason could see Byron’s strength waning. Jason breathed heavily from his own run, crawling to his hands and knees and flopping on his stomach, arms over the edge of the hatch, one hands moving to curve around the hatch opening to hold himself steady as the Berg floundered and wiggled in its hovering position. 

He could vaguely hear Jamie screaming in the background, pleading with Nikos to let him go, to let him help, that he had to see Byron get up, he had to help him, he couldn’t lose him, not Byron. 

Jason steeled his nerves, grasping at the metal beneath his hand, gaze completely focussed on the boy sprinting frantically forwards. He was going to make it. Byron would make it, he was running fast enough that he would make it. 

Except… he stumbled. A small stumble and suddenly Byron cried out, a crank having gotten ahold of his arm and scratching down it, leaving angry red marks in its wake, blood slowly pouring from the scratches. Jason’s breath caught in his throat and he himself yelled to Byron to keep going. All of them were yelling at this point, none of them willing to leave him behind. 

Jason nearly pulled himself from the Berg hatch, just as Byron threw himself off the building, hand blindly grasping for Jason’s, catching on it, slippery liquid between their fingers. Jason yanked hard, only for Byron to nearly slip from his grasp, blood viscous and covering his whole hand. He let go of the bottom of the hatch and clutched onto Byron’s forearm, causing Byron to cry out in pain as his fingers dug into the fresh scratches. 

“I’m not letting you go, don’t you dare give up on my Byron,” Jason hissed, trying to keep his feet steady against the metal beneath him, needing friction to ground him so he could pull Byron up. 

There was a sudden weight added to Byron that caused him to slip slightly downwards. Byron swung slowly, Jason barely catching sight of a crank hanging from the boy’s legs. Jason met Byron’s eyes, watching the deep blue fill with sharp tears. Jason shook his head, teeth grinding together. “Don’t you dare, you can't. Don't you do that to Jamie.” 

Byron shook his head in response. “We both know the crank will climb up me to get to you.” Another weight was added and Byron swung again, another crank having jumped off the building and latched onto the one beneath Byron. Tears fell against Byron’s temples and Jason could feel someone grasp onto his ankles, trying to pull him upwards. “Tell Jamie I’m sorry.” 

Jason’s eyes widened and he could feel the air flick at them, drying up any moisture in his eyes as Byron released his own grip, blood slick hand and arm falling from Jason’s grasp. Jason tried, he tried to grip and pull, tried to claw into Byron’s arm to stop him from falling… but it was futile, the blood being to smooth and slippery to get him a proper grip, Byron falling from his grasp.

Jason watched with wide eyes as Byron fell, the two cranks that had been attached to him grabbing onto him as they fell, sinking their teeth into skin, tearing at the boy who had sealed his own death. 

And then he was being yanked backwards, all resistance leaving him. He was forcefully flipped onto his back, seeing a crazed Jamie there, tear tracks obvious on his face, dirt and grime cleared away by the salty tears. 

He could see Jamie’s mouth moving, could feel him slamming his fists into Jason’s chest, but he couldn’t hear him. Everything a ringing to his ears, Byron’s last sentence on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t even hear himself tell Jamie those words, but he could see the reaction it caused. 

Jamie leapt away from Jason and over to the edge of the hatch, almost flinging himself off before Nikos caught him and dragged him back, collapsing to the metal ground, Jamie screaming and crying in his arms, clawing at Nikos. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop, this one is a bit shorter than the others but things are about to get intense and I can't wait to see it all turn out. This chapter may have evaded me for a bit, not wanting to be written how I wanted it, but here we are! Enjoy!

There was something different in the air here. It put Thomas at relative ease whenever he breathed deeply. He could relax here unlike being in the Scorch searching for Minho. There had been no time for relaxation at the time, always running and planning, infiltrating WCKD facilities to get any information they could. 

Now, after knowing how the Flare spread and infected… Thomas knew that all the stress of finding Minho was what caused Newt to contract the Flare. That being in the Scorch, a place of destruction and overrun with cranks, the Flare got inside him and having to make plan after plan, having to worry about every little thing, made Newt worse everyday. 

Looking back… Thomas can remember the few times Newt had a short temper with him. How the few times it happened were in those moments of peace and relaxation when they weren’t doing anything. Knowing how the Flare worked… hearing the stories of people that lost loved ones… he had the feeling that Newt had the Flare for a lot longer than what he originally thought. 

Being in that City, where infection was so widespread due to the close proximity and containment of everyone sped it up. That being placed into a hopeful situation of saving Minho brought down the subconscious blockers Newt had placed inside his head to stay the disease. That the Flare moved quickly to rapidly decline Newt’s health and condition, spreading the Flare so swiftly that he barely lasted hours after they set off on their mission to get Minho. 

Thomas still blamed himself. He should have tried harder to keep Newt with Gally, should have made him stay with Brenda, stay where he could get the Serum. 

Shaking his head, Thomas dispelled the thoughts. He was constantly being told that thinking like that would help nothing. The only thing it would do would make him wish he had done more for a boy already dead. A boy that made his own choices to protect his friends, to protect the people he loved. 

And Thomas couldn’t desecrate Newt’s memory like that. He couldn’t lose himself to “what ifs” because it would ruin everything Newt sacrificed for. He was always…  _ always _ putting the other Gladers before himself, making sure they had the things they needed. Even when they joined up with the remainings of the Right Arm, Newt was always a constant, he was there to be the mediator, to be the one person Thomas could always depend on. 

The one person Thomas knew would have his back. 

A heavy weight landed on his shoulder and Thomas glanced to the side, gaze travelling up the arm and landing on Vince's face, the older man sitting beside Thomas with a grunt. “Hey Vince.” 

Vince hummed quietly, looking out over the landscape, Thomas drawing his attention back to it once more. Thomas had managed to find a high outcropping of rocks, not unlike the one that overlooked the Right Arm camp where… where he had spoken to Teresa. He was sitting on a large rock, knees pulled up and arms resting over the top of them. 

Down below them, Thomas could see the vast ocean, waves crashing over the beach, kids screeching in joy, although their voices did not reach him here. He could see the few people still gardening, tossing dirt at each other, smiles all around. Frypan and Brenda were there, grins on their faces as they watched kids run around in the mud, disrupting the nicely plowed and water field in favor of throwing mud at each other. 

It brought a smile to his face. He was glad… glad they could find a happiness here, find peace within themselves. Thomas knew they had bad days, knew that sometimes Fry wouldn’t get out of bed until late, plagued by precious memories that he could never get back with all the losses they faced. He knew Brenda would sometimes bear down close to any of them, would find her sitting close to Thomas himself as if to make sure he was still there. Even Gally would do this sometimes, sit close to Thomas, Minho, or Frypan, arms pressing against each other, as if to reassure himself that he wasn’t alone anymore. 

Even Minho had found himself a certain peace in running along the beach. He often joined Thomas when walking the shoreline, shoes in their hands as the Asian asked questions about what they did in the six months he was gone. Thomas was… happy for the questions, wanting to share the victories they had against WCKD, the finding of the cruise ship, how Newt was always there. 

There was always something missing during these talks, that one figure that would be the foil to each of their stories, tell them to “knock it off” and “tell it right”. It left a hole in Thomas’ heart, a hole that would never be filled again. 

Minho and him, they often talked about Newt, about how he was before Thomas came up in the Box, about how he was during the six months Minho was gone. They shared story after story about the boy with blond hair and a sharp accent, tall and sassy, how he wouldn’t take their shit for nothing. That despite any ideas they had, he was always there beside them to ask the questions others were afraid to bring up. 

In all honesty, Thomas felt lost without him, without Newt to wake him up, to tell him “this is a stupid idea Tommy”, to just…  _ be  _ there at Thomas’ side like he always had been. 

Minho was just the same. Having told Thomas about when he found Newt in the Maze, how they had kept the truth a secret. Minho confessed to loving Newt, to loving the boy as if Newt was another part of himself. Despite the circumstances behind Newt jumping off the wall, they grew closer. Minho was there for Newt during the darkest part of his life that he remembered and he found a love with the blond that he could only describe as familial. Newt was Minho’s brother in all but blood. 

Thomas himself had confessed to loving Newt as well… only in a different way. He had always felt drawn to Newt, drawn to the tall boy with blond hair that radiated authority around him and had a special kind of control that Thomas had only ever seen break a handful of times. He had told Minho about Newt’s note, let the Asian read the words Newt gave to Thomas, told him how Newt pleaded with him to take the necklace, like he knew he was not going to make it to the end of their fight. 

The brunet also told Minho about how he had nearly given up, how he felt the world had ended when Newt fell to the ground, Thomas’ name a whisper on his lips. When he saw the knife in Newt’s chest, that his world shifted and he felt numb. He needed to know, wanted to die himself, just give up. So he had ran to WCKD, ran to Ava and Janson, to Teresa. 

During recounting what he did and how wrecked he had been, Thomas had several panic attacks, memories flashing before his eyes, remembering how he fought Janson, the bullet piercing his abdomen, Teresa saving him, releasing cranks on Janson-- everything. Minho had stayed beside him through it all, a firm presence at his side. 

They had found a new comfort in each other that day, a comfort that spilled over to the others, to Frypan, Brenda… Gally. 

“It gets better you know Thomas,” Vince said, his voice making Thomas jump slightly. “I know it doesn’t feel that way, but it really does.” Thomas looked to the side, meeting Vince’s own gaze. “It won’t ever fully heal… but it will get better.” 

Thomas nodded, small smile forcing its way to his face. He looked back to the ocean, a familiar sting behind his eyes. “I loved him, y’know Vince… he was… he--”

“I know kid,” Vince sighed, patting softly at Thomas’ back. “There was a certain something around the two of you that I watched grow. I didn’t think I’d see two kids fall so deeply in the circumstances you two were in. That you found each other despite everything, reminded me a lot of myself finding a love in Mary after losing everyone I cared about.” 

“How did you… get past it?” Thomas’ voice broke as he asked, having to clear his throat and swallow thickly, head bowing, chin landing on his chest as his jaw clenched. 

“It’s hard, I won’t lie to you kid.” His hand fell into a fist and he dug his nails into the palms of his hand. “Hardest thing in the world… losing the person you love. You don’t ever really get past it, they’re always gonna be on your mind regardless of what you do. All you really have to think of them is the memories they left behind. Newt was a good kid, and it was obvious how he felt about you.” 

“But I--” 

“I watched that boy love you since the beginning, since you stepped up and said you were gonna kill Ava Paige. I could see it then and I still saw it during every single raid we pulled on WCKD,” Vince chuckled, head shaking slowly. “Despite all the…  _ conflictions _ you had with Brenda and Teresa, he was always there. And he knew, knew how he felt but he never pushed you.” 

Thomas’ lips quirked up, the half smile that he always had when thinking of Newt. “I wish I knew earlier… wish I could have told him before everything went to hell.” 

“From what I understand kid,” Vince began, arm falling against Thomas’ shoulder, “you both showed your love differently. You may have been oblivious most of the time, but Newt knew you loved him regardless of anything. Both of your priorities lied elsewhere at the time, finding the one other that completed your trio.” 

“Still wish I got to tell him.” 

Vince laughed and pushed his shoulder into Thomas’. “Don’t we all wish we got to tell our loved ones that. Just don’t let regrets consume you kid, Newt wouldn’t want that for you.” 

“Thanks Vince.” Thomas looked at the older man, a sense of relief flowing through his whole body. Vince nodded, hand on Thomas’ shoulder once again as he lifted himself into a standing position once again. 

It was then that the sound of yelling reached their ears, multiple voices growing louder as they raced towards where Thomas had gone to escape. Glancing down, Thomas could see countless people rushing over to them, Minho, Jorge, Adaline, the other leaders they had elected. They were shouting, pointing to the horizon. 

Glancing over to the direction they pointed, Thomas’ breath caught in his throat, causing him to frantically scramble to a standing position, shoulders tense and nails burying into the palms of his hands. 

“How is that possible?”

In the distance, just barely flying over the edge of the ocean horizon, was a Berg. A Berg that was so much bigger than WCKD’s normal aircrafts. To Thomas, it looked like three Bergs were fused together, large, square panels on the top of them. How had WCKD found them? How did they even  _ know _ they were here? 

“I thought Lawrence’s attack on the city killed everyone in it? How in the hell—“

Vince’s question cut off and he abruptly spun around and started the trek back down to the main camp. Thomas followed after quickly. Why? Why was this happening? They had  _ escaped,  _ the important fixtures of WCKD were  _ dead, _ this shouldn’t be possible. 

  
  
  


“How’s he doin’ Nik?” 

The Latino sighed heavily, hand scratching the back of his head and running his fingers through his black hair. “He's finally asleep if that’s what you're asking.” His gaze glided over the room, coming to a harsh stand still on Newt. 

Newt swallowed thickly and averted his eyes, flinching away from the steely-eyed gaze. It unnerved him… having the Latino’s angry sight on him. Nikos had never been afraid to let them all know what he thought of Newt, that he thought everyone was foolish to follow an amnesiac’s mutterings about a place that might not exist. Newt had been able to avoid the backlash from their quick escape because Nikos was busy taking care of Jamie…

Jamie had… he fell apart quickly after Jason had turned over on his back and was pulled back into the berg hatch. It was… heartbreaking to see, seeing Jamie break down in Nikos’ arms, begging for Byron to come back, for Nikos to let him go. Nobody was supposed to die. They were meant to get in, get the solar panels they needed, and get out. 

After being unsuccessful, Jordan and Jayden had flown the berg away from the building, they landed back around the caverns but didn't leave the aircraft. Rachel had been quick to ask Braydon, despite his shock of losing his best friend, if they could still fly on what they had. Braydon said they could, if they let the berg power reserves charge for a few days and to set the berg up with floatation equipment in case the power reserves failed. Rachel convinced Braydon to work on it, and the platinum blond had been gone for three days while the panels charge the power supply. 

Newt hadn't seen him until they were ready to go. The minor glimpse Newt got was… it wasn’t pretty. Braydon looked half dead when he came back onto the berg, eyes surrounded by black circles, cheeks sunken into his face, pale hair greased back by sweat. He had successfully avoided everyone while at the same time letting himself break apart without anyone to watch him. 

“Why the  _ fuck _ are we still headed to this goddamn island?” Nikos’ voice was abrupt, breaking the small silence that had fell over the room. “We have no confirmation that this island is still fine. All we have to go off of is some half-hearted mutterings by a kid that  _ still _ doesn't know who the  _ fuck he is _ .” 

“And you’d rather us stay in the Scorch?” Rachel asked, eyebrow raising in disbelief. “You’d rather risk us all than maybe,  _ just maybe _ findin’ a place we can relax?” 

Nikos scoffed. “Relax? That word hasn't had any meaning since the goddamn sun decided to kill us off. Anytime Evan relaxes he just gets worse, so what’s the point of even trying?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, Newt gulped, staring at the floor in front of him. He hoped Nikos didn’t convince anyone otherwise. He felt… he  _ needed _ to see if this island was there. To find out if what his memories tell him is true or not. If the people he once knew were there… waiting, living,  _ surviving _ . 

And if this group turned around… Newt would never get this far by himself. 

Swallowing thickly, he spoke up, shattering the silence. “But isn't somewhere safe better than constantly running and bloody struggling for supplies?” No one moved an inch at his words, the silence deafening to Newt’s ears. He glanced up, eyes flitting around to everyone that was in the room. “Somewhere you can grow food and raise animals, a place you can have your happy family…” Licking his lips, Newt raised his head to meet Nikos’ hard gaze. “A place you can safely mourn your lost loved ones without having to worry about leaving them behind for good.” 

And in a flash, Newt felt himself fall backwards, his back hitting the ground harshly, making him cry out in pain. His head cracked against the metal floor and his vision swam, black spots dancing before his eyes. He could just barely see Nikos above him, mouth moving frantically, spit flying from his lips as he shouted angrily. 

“What the hell would you know! You're nothing but a forgetful shit that we picked up to run experiments on! You led us on a wild goose chase and got Byron killed!” A large hand curled around Newt’s neck and the blond heaved a sharp breath, air supply being cut off as he felt a sharpness dig into his throat. “We don't know you, you don't know us or anything! All you know is goddamn names that you can't match faces to! We should have just left you to die you son of a bitch!” 

Newt could feel his breath leaving him, feel no struggle coming from him. His body didn’t try to fight off the Latino, not even to just grab at the hands that clawed at his throat. Newt supposes it’s because he's accepted this. He was supposed to die to the Flare, a knife in his chest… but he was alive. 

It reminded him of a memory that he'd rather forget entirely. He had already tried to die twice… maybe third time's the charm?

But suddenly, the large figure was shoved off him, and Newt could barely make out Braydon screaming bloody murder at Nikos, shoving at the taller boy. Newt gasped for breath against his will. 

Apparently… when he gives up, death avoids him. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tired of writing the sads. Someone make this speed up so I can write the happies. They are so close. So so close, but alas, sorrow is afoot.

He woke up to violent coughs wrenching from his throat. Pain flared through his neck and his eyes fluttered open, causing him to flinch at the harsh lights. There was a cool hand against his neck and he was being lifted up away from that harsh metal he laid on. Something was shoved against his lips and tilted up, lukewarm liquid flowing into his mouth and he swallowed, a soft freshness flooding his throat. 

The water was pulled away and Newt licked his lips subconsciously, blinking roughly as he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the bright light. He barely made out Alice’s brown hair and shoulder before his head was laid back down. A soft hand laid against his forehead and brushed back his hair softly. 

“Your throat will be sore for a bit, Nikos got a good grip on you and left you some hefty bruises,” came Alice’s soft voice. “Probably won't be able to talk properly for a while hun.” He made a croaking noise and was quickly hushed by Alice. “Don't you be ruining your vocal chords anymore now.

“Gave us all quite the scare,” she continued, and her hand trembled slightly against his head. “I didn't think Nikos would go so far. I knew he had his… problems with us taking you in but I didn't think…”

“None of us thought Al.” At the addition, Newt’s head shot to the side, whimpering at the pain that sprouted through his neck and head. Alice clicked her tongue at him but looked over to the door. Braydon stood there, looking extremely haggard, dark circles beneath his eyes, heavy frown on his face. “Nikos and Byron’s relationship was… complicated. But I know that Nikos cared for him, they were brothers in so many ways. Losing Byron… it spurred his reaction like this.”

Newt’s mouth opened involuntarily and before a sound could even leave his pain filled throat, Braydon shook his head. “No need for that. It wasn’t your fault. Nikos is blinded by Jamie losing it and his anger for having a stranger amidst us. He knows it’s not your fault and he really blames himself but he wants to direct that anger elsewhere.” He paused, heel of his hand pressing against his forehead as he sighed. “Even if going in there was my idea first.” 

“Braydon--”

“Not right now Al,” he interrupted, giving her the saddest smile Newt has ever seen, another just like it sprouting in his mind. It looked so familiar to a smile given to him once before, by someone that just didn’t know what to say in response. A smile that was halfway there, just one corner of his mouth tilted upwards, eyes screaming for an escape. 

Newt swallowed, stinging hitting the back of his throat. He hadn't died but maybe if his Flare never mutated like it had, this group of people wouldn't be at odds with themselves. Newt wouldn’t have them following mere memories of his, just minor mentions of a potential safe haven from faceless people in his head. 

Nikos had a point, this group wouldn't be in this turmoil if Newt had just stayed dead. 

A sharp pinch was on his ear and he winced, a sharp whine coming from the back of his throat as he turned his gaze to Alice. She frowned at his, eyes narrowed sharply on him. “Don’t start thinking anything of the sort. I know that look. Ray gets that look on her face all the time. This was  _ not _ your fault, do you understand me? We all chose to go in there. We all chose to not turn back after that first floor we saw with cranks. This is everyone’s fault. We decided to go in there as a  _ group _ , no one was forced.”

Her head turned sharply to Braydon next. “That includes you. Everything that happened was  _ not _ your fault. Do you understand me?” Braydon frowned at her but did not acknowledge her statement. “ _ Braydon _ .” At the sharpness in her voice, Braydon flinched back towards the door. “Stop blaming yourself for this. I know you’ve worked yourself into the ground fixing arrangements on the solar panels that we have so that this berg could fly over the ocean. And I know you are always going to think it was your fault… but Jamie doesn't blame you.  _ Byron _ wouldn't either. So stop doing something you think they would do.”

Newt could vaguely hear Byron’s breath hitch, the pale haired boy turning from Alice and leaving the room. Alice huffed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to Newt. “That goes for you too hun. Everyone will always blame themselves but never throw that on others, because they  _ know _ that those involved wouldn’t blame anyone.”

Swallowing painfully, Newt nodded, feeling his eyes fill with tears that dripped down over his temples, lips trembling as he mouthed a soft,  _ thank you _ to her. She pet his head softly, fingers curling into his hair. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his forehead carefully. “If this Paradise holds out, we’ll get you back to your family. No one should be without them.”

  
  
  
  


Vince could feel his heart thudding painfully in his chest. This berg was so much bigger than the standard WCKD bergs. It appeared to be three meshed together, somehow welded as one large aircraft. It reminded Vince of the old cargo planes that used to fly over factions and release supplies that couldn’t be made easily. 

Thomas was right beside him as they hustled down the rocky path. As they scrambled down, they were met with Jorge and Minho, Minho crashing into Thomas at the force he ran towards them. The force nearly pulled them both to the ground and in other circumstances Vince would have laughed. 

Jorge clasped Vince’s shoulder, grim look on his face. “Brenda caught sight of the underbelly, WCKD plain as day printed on it. She couldn't catch sight of anyone inside it or any sort of hint that people were there.” Vince breathed out a curse, letting his gaze move towards the coast, berg steadily growing larger as it neared. He turned to Thomas and Minho. 

The two were talking quietly to themselves, harsh whispers and angry comments being thrown between them, eyes locked on the distant aircraft. And then Vince knew. Regardless of their standings, regardless of what they experienced and were ready to take charge and confront, Vince had seen enough of kids being forced to grow. 

They may have already grown up, but Vince will be damned if he lets them get anymore damaged. 

Deciding quickly, sharing a heavy look with Jorge, Vince nods at Thomas and Minho before addressing them. “I want you two to gather the kids, gather everyone and drag them towards the woods. Hide everyone as best you can. There’s no telling who is in that berg and I don’t want to give WCKD any chance to get the upper hand.” 

Thomas took a step forwards, mouth opening in protest, but Jorge was there, laying a hand against the boy’s chest. “We need someone to take charge of those kids  _ hermano.  _ They trust you and Minho because you both were them at some point. They’ll listen better to you than to two old men.” 

A war brewed in Thomas’ eyes, obviously not wanting to leave with the possibility of WCKD hanging over their heads. Vince was yet again reminded of how much the world had gone to shit and how WCKD, the group that was supposed to lead everyone to safety-- to victory over the solar flares, had betrayed the human race and decided that experimenting on  _ kids _ was the only way to fix their mistake. 

These kids, every single kid in the Maze Trials, every single immune kid that Vince had helped save from WCKD had been tortured, forced to forget their original names, had their memories erased, had been taken from their homes-- every single kid never got to have a real childhood. Never got to run around with their friends in soft grass, never got to experience school and earning friends. 

They were born into a world already distraught and forced to grow up through extenuating circumstances that made them be adults at such a young age. From what he gathered, WCKD wasn't kind to them. They didn't treat them like kids. It made Vince’s heart twinge at the thought of his family. 

His family was only on his mind on days like this, on the days where he truly saw what WCKD did to these kids he was in charge of now. He had been foolish thinking they would be safe with WCKD. When WCKD were the ones that made them contract the Flare in the first place. He had been separated from them for so long… believing them to be alive, only for those hopes to be dashed when he stumbled upon a crank town and he saw them. He saw his beautiful wife, his precious children, wandering about, dead to the world, eyes crazed and appearance haggard. 

That was the exact moment he knew he would never believe a single thing WCKD said. That he would do everything in his power to stop them. And he was only ever truly given that chance when he found Mary. 

Mary who had been in the midst of leaving a WCKD compound, arms full of files and loose papers. She had given him a hope that he had thought was long gone. 

Thomas’ eyes finally cleared and he nodded. Slightly behind him Minho’s chest moved heavily as he breathed, eyes looking angry. He nodded as well, although not happy about it. “Alright… alright we will.”

Vince nodded and the two were off in the direction of camp, Vince turning to Jorge. The two shared a brief look before walking quickly to the coastline, both glaring as the berg neared their paradise. They were silent as they watched, a few of the older people coming up behind them. 

Brenda and Gally sidled up beside them, and Vince had half the mind to tell them to head to the woods as well, but one look from Brenda made him quiet. He wasn't a stranger to Gally’s story. Gally had been manipulated to hell and back by WCKD but never truly got his revenge, never got to confront the people that took away his free will. 

And so they waited, around thirteen people at their backs, breaths held silently as they watched the berg near. It became an imposing figure, reminding Vince of all the close calls he had with WCKD in the RIght Arm. He’d be damned if he let them get the upper hand here. 

They already took away his family twice before, he'd rather die than let it happen again. 

  
  
  


The berg was silent in its approach, steady rumbling beginning as it closed in on the coast. Everyone was tense as they watched, gazes locked on the large aircraft. It was slowly lowering, its size magnified once it was as close as it could get. It had veered off to the side where a platform of smooth rocks were, landing with a heavy thump. The hatch slowly opened but no one left the aircraft.

Vince glanced at Jorge at his side, the other man looking back at Brenda, whispering quietly to her and Gally. The leader sighed quietly, steeling his gaze on the berg and he began a harsh walk towards it. He could hear footsteps following him, but most people sounded like they stayed behind. 

As he marched over to the berg, he could see two people carefully step outside the hatch. They were glancing around as they moved down the metal ramp. The two looked strikingly similar, the exact same and Vince hadn’t seen two people look alike so much since Newt and Sonya. 

One of them, caught Vince striding towards them and pointed, mouth moving slowly as he turned his head to speak to the lookalike behind him. Vince set his face into a frown, teeth clenching painfully in anger. These two were kids. Was WCKD  _ still _ manipulating kids to do their dirty work?

As he neared, Jorge, Brenda, and Gally at his back, the two came forwards, stepping away from the berg and stopping several feet away from it, hands in front of them, palms up, an old gesture that meant no harm. Vince squinted, not many still knew about what gestures were used before the solar flares destroyed the planet. 

Something was suspicious about this entire arrangement. 

Vince paused he three following him about twenty feet from the two kids, hidden slightly by the dense forest at their backs. He clicked his tongue and called out, “What business do you have here!”

The two shared a look before the one on the right stepped forwards. “My name is Jayden and this is my brother Jordan, we aren’t from WCKD.” 

Vince could feel the tension spike up his back. Something was wrong, something was off. These kids know WCKD, but then again who doesn’t in this day and age. But they knew immediately to say they weren’t WCKD. 

“How did you find us here?” 

The other, on the left still slightly behind his brother cleared his throat and answered. “We didn’t know if anyone was actually here. We came on suspicions and one person’s memories of talk about a Safe Haven.” 

A relaxing feeling came over Vince and he had no idea why. When they uttered the words “safe haven” something had differed to Vince subconsciously. Then he heard a gasp behind him, the sound coming from Brenda. Her near silent voice followed soon after, franticness in her words. 

“Thomas and Newt, they never called it paradise, they always talked about a safe haven. They were the only ones that ever called it that when it was brought up.” 

And just like that Vince’s spine seized up, tension flooding his entire body. He abruptly turned back to the two boys, hard glare on his face as he stepped forwards, hand on his hips where he kept a pistol. “Who told you about a safe haven.” 

The two shared a look, bodies fidgeting as they stood in place. Fingers twitched and Jayden’s hand moved to wrap around his stomach, gaze dropping to the ground, eyes trailing over where Vince had placed his hand. “We saved someone that… he told us about it. His memories aren’t the best but… in one of his ramblings we caught ‘Safe Haven’.” His voice died out but the other picked up the explanation.

“A few of us remembered teachings they learned in their faction, about an island off the west coast. We wanted to check. Because if he was right… then his family is here.” 

Vince wanted to ask who told them, what their name was, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Us? How many more are there?” 

And then another voice joined the party, this one rough and raspy. “Twelve altogether.” Vince’s hand tightened on the weapon at his hip, head shooting to where a girl joined the other two. She was standing just inside the hatch, right at the top of the ramp, hands folded over her chest. The two brothers had turned to look at her, worry coating their features. 

“And you are?” 

“Name’s Rachel,” she replied, nodding in Vince’s direction. “I know yer curious ‘about who told us this place existed, so only you can come in to see ‘im. Too much at once may strike a memory shock but he can’t talk too well at the moment.” 

Vince turned and looked at the three with him. Brenda had a grim look on her face and Gally was staring absentmindedly at the berg hatch. Jorge was the only one looking at Vince and without the leader having to say anything, he nodded. Vince reciprocated the nod and turned back to the strangers before them. 

“Alright but I walk behind you the whole way.”

The girl snorted but nodded, “Wouldn’ have it any other way.”

And then Vince was following the three into the berg. They were silent as they moved and they left the hatch open, giving Vince slight relief from the suspicions pounding in his head. They weren’t acting like WCKD brainwashed kids, they weren’t even acting like kids that had the worst of things happen to them. 

He was led through the berg, glancing around and keeping his hand poised on his hip just above where his handgun rested. The place was bare, there wasn’t much around and there was no evidence of more people being in the berg. These kids had managed to transform a berg--  _ three _ bergs into a large live-in plane kind of. 

When they brought him down one part of the main berg, there was two hallways off to the left and right, fairly even welding work done to connect the pieces of metal. He was taken through the hallway on the right, eyes drawn to the other side, wondering if the other of these people were over there. 

He had to duck as he was brought through the hall, coming to a stop behind the three he followed in a large room. It looked like the main part of a berg with curtains hung up around the area, a couple makeshift doors at the very from and very back of the room, the obvious hatch welded shut so it wasn't functional. 

In the room however, stood three other kids-- another girl and two boys. They were standing to the side, against the wall opposite where Vince was led in. The two boys tensed and dropped their relax figures, arms folding over their chests in unison and they silenced their quiet conversation with the girl.

The girl however was the complete opposite. She smiled brightly, coming to stand with Rachel, grabbing her hand and swinging their entwined hands against her hip. “You must be Vince?”

“And how do you know that?”

The girl hummed, eyes closing, smile widening. “We've heard a bit about you from our friend.” 

“Alright, enough with this.” Vince was done, frustration pouring out of him. “Stop with the cryptic explanations. Who the hell is this  _ friend _ . How the hell does he know so much about us.” 

Rachel sighed and the two boys stepped away from the wall, walking towards the door at the back of the room. Vince watched them with sharp eyes, almost missing as the raspy voice said, “It might be better if you saw for yourself.”

Again with their cryptic words, but before Vince could say he was leaving, the door was opened and his breath shot straight out of him. 

Immediately, Vince’s pistol was in his hand, pointing directly at the boy that was supposed to be dead. He gripped tightly to it to stop his hand from trembling. 

This Newt did not look well. His veins were prominent against his pale skin, a beacon screaming that he wasn’t okay. He looked so much like all the cranks Vince has seen over the years. He looked at the stage that was so close to the Gone. Dark bruises were around his neck in the shape of fingers. There was loud shouting around him and the group tried to come towards him as Crank Newt walked into the room. 

He forgoed listening to the protests, using his thumb to pull back on the gun’s hammer. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you bring a cranked up version of this boy into camp, then you’re  _ dead wrong _ .” And then he fired. 

  
  
  


Newt didn’t know what to expect. He didn't expect immediate acceptance but he certainly didn’t expect a gun to be shot at him. The sound was loud in the room despite the many shouts. Newt flinched back, heart in his throat, ready to feel a stinging pain in his gut or chest or anywhere that would have killed him but he felt nothing. 

His eyes had closed at the surprising fear he felt that he might die here. That he might die just before he can see the only people he remembers. Even after all the times he had been ready to die, he didn’t want to. Not here. Not now. 

Eyes fluttering open when he felt nothing, high-pitched ringing in his ears, his entire focussed landed on the person in front of him. Identical black veins although much darker, black creeping into blue eyes, tinting them too dark than the normal, happy-looking color. Black tinted blood dribbled from a smiling mouth and Newt’s mouth dropped in a silent gasp. 

Evan pitched forwards and Newt caught him, dead weight falling against his shoulder. A hand curved around his back and Evan was panting harshly into Newt’s ear. His voice was wet and drops of liquid flittered on Newt’s neck. “...Find… your family…” it was a soft whisper, so soft and quiet, filled with something Newt couldn’t recognize. “Live the… second chance at… life given… to you.” 

He fell limp against Newt, the taller boy catching Evan’s arms and trying to hold him up. With wide eyes, Newt looked around the room, most of the group was over by Vince, Raphael having launched himself at the man, grappling for the gun in his hand. They hadn’t even noticed what happened. 

Evan slipped and Newt fell to the ground with him. At the thump, the group looked up and Newt saw the exact moment Raphael realized what happened. He was still straddled over Vince but his head was turned towards Newt and Evan. His eyes widened, face dropping into a harsh frown. Realization flooded his features and his grip on Vince loosened enough for the man to push Raphael off him. 

Instead of trying to stop the man, Raphael scrambled away, crawling on his hands and feet towards them. As soon as he slid in front of Newt, he pulled Evan into his arms, face scrunching in anguish, eyes welling with tears. Whispers of “no” flitted from his mouth, over and over again. 

Across the room, Rachel was holding Vince at gunpoint, the man’s own pistol held back at him point blank. Her face was in a heady glare at the man, hand steady as she pointed the weapon at him. 

“We asked one of ya in here to avoid this kinda thing.”

Anger was clear on the man’s face and his words were sharp and biting, wrath obvious as his fists shook against his sides and he threw his whole body as he yelled. “You can’t be thinkin’ bringin’ a goddamn  _ crank _ , one that used to be a  _ part _ of us would go over well! Those boys have been through too much! They don’t deserve to see a boy they loved fall further into the Gone! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“It’s not the same!” Jayden screamed. Tears were freely flowing down his cheeks. “Newt doesn’t have the Flare virus! It’s  _ different _ !” He stomped forwards, trembling as he moved. He came to a stop directly in front of Vince and cried, “He doesn’t have Crank qualities, he’s  _ gaining _ lost memories, not  _ losing _ them. And if you didn’t jump the gun and attack before asking questions then you would  _ know that _ !

“His Flare mutated! It’s keeping him  _ alive _ , keeping him _ safe _ !” Jayden exclaimed, body thrumming with emotion as he explained. Vince looked stricken, eyes wide as the boy screamed at him. “He isn’t a  _ fucking Crank _ ! He’s  _ perfectly _ fucking  _ fine!”  _

_ “ _ That’s-- _ ” _

“Shut your goddamn mouth you fucking moron!” Newt flinched back at the harshness in Jayden’s voice. The almost always calm scientist was emotional, he must have realized what happened to Evan, must have seen how anguished Raphael looked. 

Newt let himself glance around at the others. Jordan was collapsed on the ground, curved into a ball, forehead against the floor and fists clenched in his hair. Alice was kneeling beside him, hand on his back. Behind them stood Mason, shoulders dropped and face slack with disbelief. 

Another death. In just five days. They lost two people in their family… because of Newt. Newt brought them here, he told them of this safe haven. He caused Byron to die… caused Evan to die. This was his fault. 

Rachel huffed, ever unruffled, eyesight plain on Vince. “We can integrate him however ya want, bringin’ his loved ones here one at a time, but his family is here and he’s stayin’ regardless.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reunited and it feels so good!!!
> 
> *sideyes TMR discord* Anytime I wanted to write they brought up angst discussions, I blame them for everything.

Frypan startled when Gally and Brenda came crashing through the hut he had been in. He had forgoed heading to the forest with everyone else, wanting to escape for a bit and hide away, in hopes that the berg wasn’t really WCKD. He didn't think he'd be able to handle it if it was WCKD. 

Except the two were panting breathily, nothing like usual when they were together alone. They stumbled through Frypan’s door, falling over each other to explain. Frypan understood nothing of their rambling before the two turned to each other, shared a look, reached out, grabbed Frypan arms and yanked him off his bed. 

“Come with us,  _ now! _ ” They yelled, Frypan wincing at the high-pitch. However, he didn't protest as he was dragged from his hut. Whatever they were yelling about was obviously important and it wouldn’t do good to try and stop them when they both seemed close to tearing his arms off. 

He was yanked towards the coastline, where large, flat rocks lay, the larger-than-normal berg resting on them, hatch open. Gally and Brenda held no hesitation and pulled him into the berg, dragging him to the left and through a small hallway. 

The berg was silent as they padded through the metal hall, slowing down as they neared where voices were whispering quietly. 

Brenda was the first to release Frypan’s wrist, Gally following behind soon after. The girl crossed her arms over her chest and  _ snarled _ , “Fry’s here, now  _ fucking tell us _ .” Vince and Jorge traded looks, the two gesturing to the seats that were laid out. Frypan raised an eyebrow, Gally and Brenda both not moving an inch, bodies taut as they waited. “I swear to god.  _ Fucking tell us _ who knew of this safe haven.” 

Frypan breath hitched, swallowing thickly as his head snapped to Vince and Jorge. He remembers those words so clearly, an accent taking over the phrase any time they mentioned escape. Newt and Thomas always referred to it as that, as a safe haven away from WCKD, while everyone else used paradise. His gaze trained on the two men, both staring at each other and gesturing wildly as they held a silent conversation. 

Vince finally sighed, grunting as he stood up. “There’s… really no easy way to say this. But first, these guys aren’t from WCKD. They stole these bergs and combined them together to get here easier.” 

“Okay, and?” Gally asked. Frypan still didn’t know what was going on but Brenda and Gally were strung tight with nerves, both so impatient. Vince turned to look at jorge and the Mexican man nodded, one shoulder raising in a partial shrug. Vince turned back around and licked his lips.

“And they found Newt.”

The breath rushed from Frypan gut. How? How did they…? Brenda’s arm shot out and grasped at Gally, her fingers clawing at his shirt. Gally threw his own arm at Brenda’s, large hand wrapping around her upper arm, nearly circling around it entirely. Frypan swallowed thickly, eyes wide as he stared at Vince. 

What did that even mean? Frypan remembers how they had to leave Newt’s body behind. He remembers how distraught Minho and he were, how Gally had to tear them away with Brenda, leaving the boy there on the ground. The city was falling apart around them and here had been nothing they could do. 

How could a body talk about a safe haven?

“There’s a hefty explanation but… I think you deserve to see before you can understand.” And to the side, a curtain fluttered, drawing all three’s gaze to it, each watching like a hawk. Frypan could feel his heart thud in his chest, could feel it echo in his ears. No. No. No no. This wasn’t  _ possible _ . It  _ can't be _ . 

A hand with long fingers peeked through the curtain, black veins prominent against pale skin. The curtain was slowly grabbed and pulled back slowly, revealing a face Frypan didn't think he’d ever see again. 

His vision blurred and his legs gave out. That was  _ Newt _ . How… This wasn’t… Brenda let out a broken sob before she was flinging herself across the room, Gally quick behind her, stumbling at the blond. Frypan felt pain sprout in his knees as he hit the floor harshly. He could barely see Brenda fly at Newt, arms winding tight around the lithe body, face pressing against his shoulder. Gally was quick to wrap his arms around the both of them. 

White noise filled Frypans ears and he felt like he couldn't breath. He was stuck on staring, just  _ staring _ at Newt, at the boy he thought dead. Was this another hallucination? Was this his mind playing goddamn tricks on him again? Was he  _ dreaming _ ? 

A hand landed on his shoulder and Frypan brokenly looked up, Jorge above him, eyes soft in sympathy. He grasped Frypan upper arm and hefted the boy up, supporting a stumbling walk to Newt. 

Dark bruises littered the once dead boys neck and Frypan’s breath caught. He could hear nothing except the pounding of his heart thrumming in his ears. Gally pulled back first, hand covering his face as he turned away, shoulders trembling as he fell into a crouch. Brenda fell back as Frypan was half-dragged to Newt, a bright smile on her face when she turned to Frypan. 

Tears were in her eyes that had yet to fall, but her smile was in wonder.  _ That _ was when Frypan knew this was Newt. This was  _ their  _ Newt. This was the boy Frypan spent time with in the Glade. This was the boy that had helped get his name be Frypan. This was the boy that Frypan would do anything for, would follow to the ends of the earth. 

Face scrunching up, Frypan could feel the tears dripping down his face. And then Brenda was out of the way and Newt’s familiar brown eyes were meeting Frypan’s. And then Frypan was collapsing against Newt, arms winding around the thin torso and crushing the blond to his chest. 

Soft murmurs left him and he could hardly tell what he was saying, sobbing through his words. “You stupid… I can’t… believe… Thomas and Minho--- You suck. Why didn't you…. Just stay back-- why did you do this--- why -- can’t…” and then he fell into unintelligible mumbles against Newt’s neck. He knew he was making a teary, snotty mess against Newt, but he didn't care. 

Didn't care about anything but this boy. That this boy was alive. That he was not dead in the Last City with a knife in his chest. Newt was  _ alive _ and he was  _ fine _ and he was  _ here _ . 

There was an awkward pat on Frypan back and it made him pull back. He met Newt’s eyes once more, and choked at the confusion in his eyes. He had no recognition. Did he… did he  _ forget _ them?

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out and then a voice behind Newt was speaking quietly, “Hun, you know you can’t speak quite yet.” 

Frypan glanced over Newt’s shoulder, spotting a short brunette girl sitting in a small chair. She was staring sympathetically at the two, eyes red and puffy, evidence that she had been crying before. She looked at Frypan, biting her lip before speaking. 

“Newt can’t remember much but names, he can’t pinpoint faces most of the time. If you tell him your name he’ll probably recognize you.” 

And then Brenda and Gally were fligning themselves back at Newt, pressing against Frypan and saying their names. Frypan followed their lead and relief flooded through him at the cloudiness in Newt’s eyes leaving. More tears fell over Frypan’s cheeks and he held in a broken sob. The three of them fell back against Newt, this time the other wrapping his spindly arms around them in return, clutching at clothes and pressing his face into them all, sharp whine coming from his lips. 

This was right. This was everything Frypan could have ever hoped for. Newt was back. He was  _ back. _

  
  
  


“Minho.”

The Asian looked up, squinting against the light bearing down into his eyes. A figure was outlined by the sharp light, haloing around Vince as he caught Minho's attention. Beside him, Thomas’ head shot up, moving to stand as Vince neared them. Vince gave Thomas a look, holding out a hand to calm the boy down. 

Minho stood beside his best friend, his brother, matching him pace for pace as they came towards Vince, the man looking worse for wear. He looked terrible. Minho raised an eyebrow, frowning at him. “The hell did they do?”

“There was… complications…” Vince said, clearing his throat. He shook his head and looked directly at Minho. “There’s something you need to see though Minho.” Thomas turned on Minho, eyes wide, but before Minho could say anything, Vince continued. “Actually… you  _ both _ need to see it, but only one at a time.”

“What the hell does WCKD have to show us?” Minho winced at the heart breaking tone in Thomas’ voice. He was so tired, so tired of WCKD’s games. He wished they would just leave them alone. Why were they even here? WCKD ruined their lives and took Newt from them. Why can't they just be left in peace?

Vince grimaced, keeping his gaze on Minho. “I can’t say much but I can say that Jorge, Gally, Brenda, and Frypan all have seen it. I came to you guys last because of how it can affect you. And because I needed their opinion on how to approach the subject.” 

Tingling sprouted over Minho’s spine, travelling all down his back. Tension flew into his shoulders and body. “What the  _ hell _ is going on Vince?”

Taking a deep breath, releasing it into a heavy sigh, Vince rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just easier to show ya kids.”

Minho looked to Thomas, the brunet turning to stare at Minho. His eyes spoke volumes of suspicion, but they both knew they could trust Vince. Vince had done so much for them, had even forgoed leaving for their safe haven to go back to the Last City with Jorge. If Vince was saying this then they could trust him. 

Minho nodded to Thomas, both turning back to Vince at the same time. “Alright…” Minho let his voice fall flat, and then he was following behind the man, heading back down the forest trail and down to the coast in the direction the berg had flown towards. 

He glanced over his shoulder, catching Thomas’ eyes, a steely eyed gaze that so wished to come with. He didn’t want to let Minho back in WCKD’s clutches even if Vince was the one taking him there. 

They walked for a few minutes, Minho quietly observing Vince as they walked. Something was off, especially since he separated him and Thomas for this. He had sounded so torn about showing them what this berg brought. Like he didn't  _ want _ to but he  _ needed _ to. It was fishy and weird. 

They eventually got to the berg, Minho following Vince into the open hatch, walking a ways behind him, watching where the man would go. He trusted Vince because Thomas did. Minho wasn’t the one to spend six months with the man, but Thomas was. And if Thomas trusted him, then Minho would too.

So Minho followed Vince through this berg that had WCKd plastered on it. The hair on the back of his neck was sticking up, putting him on edge. It reminded him of the berg he had been forcefully pulled into back at the Right Arm’s first camp, half unconscious and unable to move. 

He didn’t want to be enclosed like this. 

He was led into a room; Brenda, Gally, and Frypan all gathered in one corner, voices hushed as they discussed something. They abruptly looked up when Minho came into the room, whispers ending as they stared at him. Brenda had a shit eating grin on her face and Gally was turning his head away, lips twitching as if fighting his own smile. Frypan had a half-smile on his face, eyes brimming with tears. 

Minho looked at them and then back at Vince, the man standing in front of a curtain with Jorge, hands on his hips. He went back and forth, brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s… going on?”

In way of answer, Jorge grabbed the curtain and pulled it aside. 

And Minho stared. He felt numb. That couldn’t be. That could not be his boy. There was no way. Newt was dead. D...E...A...D... Dead. Minho  _ saw _ him. Newt had a  _ knife _ in his  _ chest _ , in his  _ heart _ . This couldn’t be real. This can't. WCKD was making him see things again. Making him see Newt, his brother, his family, his Newt when he wasn't really there. 

But then the Not Newt stumbled forwards, the same limp Minho had gotten used to clearly there. He stumbled forwards and his voice was but a mere whisper, the accent still so clear even after all the time Minho has not heard it. “Min…ho…?”

And just like when he saw Newt and Thomas for the first time in six months that wasn't he imagination, he sprinted forwards, launching himself at Newt. Launching himself at this boy, this boy he thought was  _ dead _ . 

He wrapped his arms tightly around Newt, pressing the lithe boy against his chest and burying his face against a bruise covered neck. He whispered Newt’s name like a prayer, ignoring the sharp gasp from where Frypan, Gally, and Brenda stood. He kept repeating the name over and over again, face dry, tears ducts dried up. He could feel his eyes sting but nothing made them blur, nothing appeared at his water line. 

Newt’s own arms came winding around his shoulders, fingers digging into Minho’s back and clutching to him tightly. Newt made small whimpers and whines, the most noise he could make from his bruised throat. Minho replied in his own whimpering noises, jaw clenching, smashing his nose against the juncture of Newt’s neck. 

“Please be real, please, please, please be real,” Minho murmured, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Newt squeezed him tighter in response, pressing in closer. Minho couldn’t have this be his imagination. He wouldn't survive if this wasn’t real. He finally got to see Newt, to hug him, to have him by his side. 

He couldn't bare it if this was fake. 

He eventually pulled back, Newt loosening his arms around him. Minho kept a hand tangled in Newt’s shirt, pressing close to his side. “How--?” his voice broke at the question, face flicking to Vince and Jorge. 

The two men shared a look before Jorge chuckled, “It’s a long story, so you might want to sit down.” 

  
  
  


Thomas’ leg would not stop moving. It bounced up and down from where he sat on a log. Everyone had eventually moved back to the camp near the coast, having been given word an hour or so ago by Jorge. 

He had yet to see hide or hair of Minho since Vince called him away. He hadn't seen Brenda, Frypan, or Gally since the berg landed either. He was worried. He needed to find out why they were all at the berg,  _ if  _ that’s where they all were. They probably still were. 

In a snap decision, Thomas was springing up from the log he sat on and striding towards where the berg had landed. He kept his sights set on the tree line that he marched through. He needed to know. Fuck waiting for Minho and them to return. He  _ had _ to know what the  _ hell  _ was going on. They could be in danger. They could be being threatened. 

He kept quiet as he neared the berg hatch, dropping to a crouch, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He slowly approached the hatch, taking miniscule steps so the metal wouldn't echo as he sneakers hit the flooring. To his left he could hear vague voices, so soft they were almost like whispers. 

And then he heard is name, just in passing ant the rest of the sentence fell on deaf ears because so soon after… he heard a name being tossed about so nonchalantly. Said repeatedly so many times. An anger surged through him. 

How dare they. How  _ dare  _ they talk so frivolously about Newt. They couldn't just  _ do _ that. They couldn’t throw his name around at random, that was… that was  _ ruining _ his memory. The name was thrown about in several tones of voice and even used as referencing  _ someone else _ . 

Huffing, Thomas tossed being sneaky out the window. He straightened out and marched to the left, through a hallway where the voices were coming from. His shoulders were thrown back and fists clenched tightly. They couldn't do this. Thomas wouldn't let them. 

He spun the corner in the short hallway, spit flying from his lips as he spoke harshly, “How  _ dare _ \--”

His breath wooshed out of him. He felt like his lungs collapsed. Protests fell flat and his eyes hurt as they widened. He wasn't breathing, wasn’t feeling, wasn't hearing. All he could do was  _ see _ . See Newt. His Newt. His most precious person, there, looking just like the day Thomas had  _ left _ him. 

Everything else in sight fell away, even as Brenda and Frypan stood, coming near him. Darkness blurred everything and all he could see was his Newt. 

Black veins stuck out like rivers in a forest, threading sharp pathways down his arms and neck, spider like webs sprawling over his face. His hair was matted down by a sheen of sweat and grime, evidence of not being able to bathe for a few days. Dark bruises were firm on his neck, blending in so viciously with the harsh veins. He was dressed up in clothes Thomas had never seen before, clothes that were slightly ratty and so reminiscent to what they traded back and forth in the Scorch. 

This was Newt,  _ his Newt _ .

Against every scientifically possible reason Thomas could ever think of, this was  _ his Newt _ . The Newt he left behind, the Newt he  _ lost _ . 

Without his knowledge, he tripped forwards, barely catching himself against a soft surface that he pushed away from. He stumbled over his feet, catching himself against the back of a chair that had been abandoned. Except his eyes stayed on Newt. On this boy he thought was  _ gone _ . 

Newt rose from the chair, Thomas faltering in his movements towards him. He was struck dumb at the sight, legs ceasing all movement, heart seizing in pain. Newt Stared at him with wide eyes, the only thing different from when Thomas last saw him. The blackness in his veins wasn't in his eyes, eyes still so expressive as recognition flashed in them and tears pooled on his waterline. 

A breathless whisper, “...Tom...my…” and Thomas pitched himself forwards, throwing himself to Newt,  _ his  _ Newt. He gather him in his arms, pressing the boy against his chest tightly, hands grasping against the clothes he wore, clawing into the fabric. He pressed his face into Newt’s shoulder, Newt’s shoulders trembling as he wound his arms around Thomas in return. 

He stood there for what felt like a lifetime, cradling this boy in his arms that he never quite got to do before, never when conscious. He kept his face in Newt’s shoulder, chest hitching as he hiccuped and tried to catch his breath. 

Distantly, he could hear himself muttering, soft mumbles falling from his lips against Newt. Newt was returning every mutter with a whimper of his own, as loud as he could get without pain throbbing through his throat. 

Thomas knew he was a mess, tears streaming over his face and onto Newt, soaking his shirt with snot and tears, products of messy crying. Newt was returning the favor against Thomas’ own shirt but the brunet couldn’t bring himself to care. He had  _ Newt _ .  _ Newt _ was  _ alive _ . Thomas didn't care how, he didn’t care why, but Newt was in his arms and  _ alive _ . 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What...are...words...? This chapter just... it didn't want to be written. Omfg I almost gave up writing it but I knew I needed it before next chapter. Words are hard.

Newt was surrounded on all sides, and he was pretty sure each of them had a hand on him or was touching some part of him. All of them had somehow ended up sitting on the floor instead of chairs, surprisingly comfortable blankets cushioning the metal flooring. A little ways in front of them, turned to look at them, Vince and Jorge sat in chairs. 

On his right, Minho sat next to Newt, shoulders pressed together against the wall behind them. The Asian was also dragging his finger over Newt’s thigh absentmindedly, a subconscious movement that sent a wave of comfort through Newt. And on his other side, Tommy’s body was plastered to Newt’s, the full length of their bodies pressed together, from shoulders to calves. Tommy also had an arm wrapped around Newt’s waist, having kept it in place there ever since they parted from their embrace. His head was buried into Newt’s neck, breathing softly over sharp collarbones. 

Sitting in front of him, not leaning against the wall, Brenda, Gally and Frypan were sat. Brenda was leaning towards Gally-- not being subtle about leaning against him-- her legs sprawled out in front of herm one foot wiggling back and forth against Newt’s good knee. Gally was a little closer, turned slightly to the side, legs going around Minho’s own legs. He was leaning back on his hands, wrists barely brushing against Newt’s pant covered ankle. Frypan had his legs crossed, feet folded underneath him. He was sitting close enough that one of his knees brushed against Newt’s foot, walking his fingers along Newt’s other ankle, humming non committedly as they all sat there and basked in each others presences. 

Newt felt pure comfort from these people. He may not remember them completely, but he knew their names. He may not remember who they are as people, but his  _ body _ remembers. His body remembers their touches, their comfort, remembers who they are. And despite his memory drawing blanks still… these were his family. These were the people that he cares about, that he would die for… that he  _ did _ die for. 

And he'd do it all again if they got to live happily. 

There was quiet mumbles coming from the short hallway, too quiet to be understandable. The light padding of feet against metal followed the voices cutting off and Newt turned his head the best he could with Tommy in his neck to see who was there. 

Alice came back through the hall, arm behind her as she tugged Rachel in after her. Alice had left earlier when Vince brought back Minho, heading back through the berg to where everyone else had stayed. Rachel had sent her with Newt and Vince originally after having sized up the scene where Evan had laid, bloody and broken. 

Rachel cleared her throat, despite everyone-- but Tommy-- turning to look at her. “So. You all’re prolly confused ‘bout why Newt is alive now, right?” She nodded to the boy and he tilted his head against Tommy’s, the other boy shifting slightly against him. “Al splained a bit to Vince over there but she don’t know much ‘bout the science of it all.”

“That’s where I come in.”

Jayden’s voice was raspy and clogged, sounding as if someone had shoved cotton down his throat. Even from his position, Newt could see bloodshot eyes and sharp tear tracks that ran down dust covered cheeks. His hands were tapping along his thighs anxiously, eyes darting back down the hallway. Rachel nodded, face stoic and frown firm. “He's our resident scientist.”

“Was he a WCKD sc-”

“WCKD is  _ scum _ and don’t deserve to understand the science behind the Flare,” Jayden’s eyes were wild when he turned to glare at Vince. “They kept vital information from the world and were in direct contact with the PFC that destroyed the world like this. Sure the Flares are what killed the land, but  _ people _ are what brought about the apocalypse.” 

He twitched a bit, pacing before them before stopping and pointing at Newt. “The Flare was a disease created to attack certain DNA markers that occur in certain people, a certain gene that only 30% of the world’s population carried, or at least before the solar flares destroyed half the population by making the areas unlivable.” He paused, hands curling into his stomach and wringing his t-shirt. “The Flare, however, mutated beyond what the creator of this operation thought. It mutated and took the form of a helminth parasite that takes refuge inside the human brain. 

“The Flare parasite buries itself into the brain, right where the frontal lobe is. The frontal lobe is basically the part of the brain that makes up who a person is. It makes you who you are. When the Flare is buried there, making its nest, you start getting angrier, acting not yourself and attacking anyone who doesn't go along with your way of thinking,” his breath hitched, eyes closing for a minute before snapping open and staring at the wall past everyone. “It keeps going, spreading its claws into the other parts of the brain and travelling through the head to take control. It wants to be the one in power of their host. 

“It can feel like a sharp headache or migraines at times, that pain becoming a dull thud as the parasitic vines stretch along the nervous system, infecting the nerves to remove all pain receptors so that an infected person can so inhuman acts. It carves its way into the bloodstream and before attaching to red blood cells, immediately attacks white blood cells, removing the potential saviors for this. Then they attach to red blood cells and migrate through the body, infecting any healthy cell it finds. The veins turn black and are visible through skin, bulging out and causing pain as it moves. 

“The Flare moves differently depending on how you were infected. Most everyone has some form of the parasite due to the PFC not regulating it as well as they should have. It’s been airborne ever since it was released and anyone that wasn’t inside or locked away has some minor form of it. Because of this, being bitten by a crank, where the secreted fluid can directly enter the bloodstream, you turn much faster, falling downhill fast with fever as your white blood cells try to stay alive and fight.”

Newt had heard this before. Had heard Jayden explain it on multiple occasions, even just murmuring it to himself as he worked. He repeated it over and over that it must be something he’s memorized by now. Newt didn't know why he repeated it so many times. Maybe he was reminding himself that it was a disease and not a living, physical organism that moved with intelligence. 

He looked to his side-- Minho wasn’t paying the best attention, picking at small specs of dirt and cotton on Newt’s shirt. In front of him Gally’s face was scrunched as if in pain, his head bowed forwards, fingers tapping against the metal below them. Brenda was chewing on her bottom lip, staring at Jayden as he explained, Frypan copying her as he stared. Tommy had not moved at all, not even to look up at who entered the room. Vince and Jorge shared looks of skepticism and understanding, finding truth in Jayden’s words. 

“However, Newt is different.”

At this, Tommy’s head shot up from Newt’s neck. His eyes narrowed in on Jayden as the scientist began a further explanation. 

“I have run many tests and researched so much about the Flare and nothing I’ve found has led me to something even  _ resembling _ Newt’s case. His Flare, the parasitic virus, in the most unscientific way I can put it,  _ rewrote _ its DNA and molecular biology to protect its host. It makes partial sense, because a parasite in general infects a host and wants to thrive there in order to live out the basic needs of all creatures; reproduction and eating. 

“So when Newt’s heart was threatened to stop beating and keeping the host alive, the Flare parasite acted accordingly to keep the host alive.” Against him, Tommy flinched violently, pulling his arm back and scooting away from Newt. 

A sharp twinge pierced Newt’s heart. And then he was falling. 

Visions flashed before his eyes, memories threading into his mind and traversing over his vision. Him as a boy, with five others, sneaking through hall after hall. Escaping a large facility and being caught. A sharp feeling of betrayal before his memories were ripped from him the first time. His gaze landing on a scared boy in a metal box. That boy almost being crushed because he was stupid. The same boy before him in a cage as he spoke softly to him. Following this boy, letting this boy  _ lead _ him and those that followed him. Losing his friends… people he felt close to. 

Being taken to another facility after getting out. Being thrown into a hopeful situation and the harsh feeling that it was all fake. That he had finally gotten a place to call safe, until it was unrightfully ripped from him. Being saved by the same boy again, a clear beacon to Newt in his memories. Losing this boy for nearly two days in a desert. Wanting to tear apart everything at the seams to get him back. The scare of finding him out of his mind and hallucinating. The relief flooding through him when they found a place that was once again safe. Followed so quickly by another betrayal. Wanting to give his life away with that boy, uncaring of the risks. Losing his oldest friend. Listening to that boy speak of getting him back, of killing the people that put them in this situation in the first place. 

Earning a place amongst rebels. Conducting tracking missions to find hidden mazes and infiltrating them. Rescuing as many immune kids as they could find, stopping WCKD’s inhumane studies in their tracks. Trying to find any sign of his best friend. Getting closer to everyone that was left behind. Finding comfort in that boy. Comforting him in return. Heart growing with feelings and hope as they searched and searched and searched. Falling in love. 

_ Falling in love _ . 

With a harsh gasp, Newt sat straight. His body turned to Tommy, Thomas, this boy and he flung himself forwards, halting the boy from moving away. He loved him, he  _ loved him _ . So many misunderstood feelings, heartache brought about from not remembering everything he could about this boy, about Tommy. He buried his face into Thomas’ neck, clutching at his back, praying that this wasn’t just a memory. He needed these people. It felt right to be with them again. 

His family. 

  
  
  


Jayden’s heart ached seeing Newt hug the brunet tightly. It was good he got to return to his family, that he got to find the people he remembered vaguely. But Jayden had hoped it wouldn’t be at the cost of his own family. 

They had lost Byron and Evan both-- two people important to the group in vastly different ways. If he had known something like this was going to happen to them, then he never would have brought Newt back with them. He would have left him in Denver and let Lawrence’s dogs take care of him. 

If Jayden hadn’t let his scientific nature take over, then Byron would still be alive. Then Evan would still be alive. 

Rachel leaned her shoulder into him and he faltered away from her. Rachel and Alice both had a knack for reading what anyone was feeling. They could get into a person’s head and pick them apart and give the proper amount of comfort or guidance when necessary. 

She tilted her head towards his and whispered, “Ya know as well as us all that it wasn’ Newt’s fault that they died. Can’t be blamin’ each other for anythin’ that’s happened. Makes unnecessary tension and causes hatred in a small group.” 

“He’s not part of us Rachel and you know it,” Jayden muttered back. He kept quiet as the small group of reunited people fell into a group hug together. “We even came here for him to return to his family. We were never going to be considered his family. He has his own people here and he loves them.” 

“I know.” 

He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to grieve. He wanted to sit alone and cry. Nothing was making sense anymore. Nothing was driving Jayden. He had stayed stuck on the Flare for so long, for finding a fix beyond the measly Bliss and Serum WCKD created because Evan was still alive. Because there was people in his family that were in harm’s way. They were vulnerable to falling to infection, to losing themselves to the Flare. 

But he had failed every single experiment, every single attempt at making a cure. He may have studied the virus and parasite and knows its ins and outs. But he has no way to cure it. No way to destroy the virus outside of harvesting children that provide the enzymes in WCKD’s notes. 

All of his studies… and nothing to show for it. He hadn’t given up, but what if everything else had. 

On the floor, the small group pulled apart, Newt wiping his eyes and face. The brunet he had launched himself at held Newt’s face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over Newt’s cheeks. He cradled Newt so tenderly, so lovingly. It reminded Jayden of when Mason would caress his own face. A caress of love and care, a showcase to the people around, to the person receiving, that they love them. 

Despite everything, Jayden was glad that Newt had that. Had someone to love him, someone to give his own love to. 

Jayden cleared his throat to get their attention once more. “The Flare kept its host alive in Newt’s case. I wasn’t able to confirm if the Flare does this with any other host, or if Newt was different because he was part of WCKD’s trials. But without a sure fire way to cure people, I don’t want to try running experiments on cranks if they’ll just die in the end.

“...I need to be getting back now.” And he turned from the room, eyes shutting briefly. 

“Wait.” 

The voice was a mere statement, quiet but echoing around the silent room. Jayden glanced back, finding the one that loved Newt, standing and fishing into his pocket. He pulled out a vial and held a fist out to Jayden. 

“You brought Newt back to me-- to  _ us _ . And you can do more with this than I can.” Confusion flooded Jayden and he turned, reaching a hand out below the boy’s fist. The vial was dropped into Jayden’s hand, a vibrant blue liquid inside it. 

“What… what is this.” Jayden stuttered, looking up at the boy with wide eyes. Please don’t be what he thinks it is. Please don’t be--

“The cure.”

No. This wasn’t happening. His hand trembled as he brought the vial closer to himself. The bright blue so reminiscent of Bliss, of WCKD’s serum, although it was brighter in color, almost glowing in the low light. Why. Why did they have a cure. How did they get a cure. 

He tightened his fingers around the vial and stuffed his fist into his pocket. “Thank you.” And then he was gone. He moved slowly through the hallway, his body feeling sluggish as he walked. Shock. He was going into shock. 

If they had been quicker, just a few seconds quicker, they could have stopped Vince from firing his gun. Evan would still be alive. They had a cure. They could have  _ cured _ him. Evan wouldn’t of had to suffer with the Flare anymore. He wouldn’t have to wait until it overtook his consciousness and tried to kill the people he loves. Evan would have been  _ cured _ ! 

His feet slid from beneath him and he fell to the metal floor, barely shooting his free hand out to halt his descent. His chest moved hastily, violently with every breath he took, heart pounding against his ribcage. His eyes were unseeing, fingers curling into the palm of his hand against the metal. 

They could have saved Evan. Could have saved anyone that got infected. Could have replicated the cure properties and started administering it to cranks, see which ones it still worked with. 

They failed. They  _ failed _ . 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. No one was supposed to  _ die _ . They lost too much, lost pieces of their family in such sort succession of each other. 

_ They failed _ . 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen. This chapter just, did not want to be written at all. I could not believe. I knew what I wanted but no words would come.

His hair fluttered against his forehead slowly, brushing against his brow as the person pressed against him breathed softly. His front was pressed against someone else and something was against this back. He could feel someone breathing against his back and there was a heavy weight across his legs. 

His eyelids cracked open and all he could see was light peeking through the cracks of a dark curtain hanging above his head, just above the bed he lay on. He tried to lift his head but the movement o the person pressed to his front stopped him with sot murmurs and dragging him closer. 

With him being dragged impossibly closer, the body behind him moved as well, a heavy weight falling over his waist. Annoyance spread through him and he felt just like he was back in the Glade in one of the shoddy hammocks they set up. He huffed, dragging his hands up from where they lay between him and the body against him, palms lying against a firm chest. He squinted, brow furrowing in confusion. 

Why did he know this chest? 

Sure it was never in this manner but he’s felt this chest, patting against it when this person saved his life. The reassuring pats they often gave each other when searching for Minho. 

Blinking furiously, Newt shifted slightly, shoulder leaning back into the person behind him. He ignored the mutterings and the arms tightening around him, lifting his head as best he could when surrounded by two bodies that had no notion of personal space. 

He had to squint to look around the room, the weight on his legs ending up being the dark skinned boy, Frypan, conked out on the latter half of the bed. Face scrunching, he looked around and spotted two familiar faces staring back at him amusedly. Brenda smirked and nodded at him. 

“Ya didn't start out like that I hope you know,” she chortled. “Gravitated so close in the middle of the night-- almost got a knee in the face from Thomas there,” she nodded to the boy pressed to Newt’s front. Newt looked to his side and he could feel himself almost be pulled back into the lull of sleep. Tommy looked relaxed, face slack as he dreamed, head against the pillow and incredibly close to Newt’s own head. 

“And I was brutally kicked out of bed by the leech attached to your back,” Gally added, no sense of malice in his voice. Newt’s head turned as best it could to see behind him but Minho was pressed so tightly against him, his head buried in between Newt’s shoulder blades. He could see the Asian’s muscular arm around his waist though, and it further proved Gally’s point. 

“How…” Newt trailed off, voice falling flat from disuse and raspiness. His throat was still bugging him and he couldn’t talk more than a few words at a time, but Jordan had said it was best to keep quiet, not even a whisper. 

“How long we been up?” Brenda questioned. At Newt’s nod, she continued, “A couple hours. Just been sittin’ here watching. It’s nice to just watch… to fully swallow that you’re back, that you’re here. That you being here and  _ alive _ had helped them so infinitesimally. They’ve missed you, y’know?” 

Swallowing thickly, Newt almost let his head fall back, turning back to facing Thomas and to just lay in their presence for just a bit longer, but he paused. He looked back at Brenda and Gally, lips quirking in a small smile. He cleared his throat painfully, but whispered so tenderly, “I missed ya too… when I could remember.” 

He heard a hitch of breath and then he was laying his head back against the pillow, hunching down into the mattress, the three boys instantly curling back into him tightly, trapping him against them. Soft whispers started up, but Newt let them fall away from his senses. 

He didn't need to hear them. The words didn't belong to his ears, a private conversation between two people that had found a soft comfort in each other. 

His eyes fell shut and he pressed his forehead into the crook of Tommy’s neck. He could stay cooped up here for longer. It was nice. His family surrounding him, the people he thought he lost…  _ here _ . 

  
  
  


When he next opened his eyes, he was still pressed against someone, but the weight across his legs and the body against his back were gone. Although he did feel something shaking against his shoulders as laughter rang out through the room. He shifted slightly, moving his head back, thudding against the leg behind him. 

There was hurried shushing, but the laughter persisted. The chest pressed against his own shuddered and a heavy groan rang out across from him. “What the hell are you guys laughing at?” Came Thomas’ groggy voice, head lifting from the pillow and eyes squinting at the people around the room. 

Newt’s lips lifted involuntarily as he watched Thomas. He traded insults with Brenda, snarking at Minho, who was apparently sitting behind Newt, back resting on the wall the back of the bed was against. 

Thomas’ head eventually fell back onto the pillow and he was so incredibly close to Newt, faces close enough that Newt could feel Thomas’ breath run over his cheeks. A soft smile was on Tommy’s face, staring at Newt with a tenderness that Newt couldn’t place. One of Thomas’ hands moved and rested at Newt’s stomach, thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin showing there. 

The laughter fizzled out and the room was left in a comfortable silence, all of them just… basking in each other’s presences. There was a calmness about them all that was palpable to Newt, so fierce that he felt that if he reached out, he could catch it in his hands. 

Remembering memories that he feels aren't his own, is different than experiencing. He knows these people, he remembers them, but Newt feels that he watched someone else love them, watched someone else become their friend, their family. But this… just laying here beside them, being next to them in general, makes it feel  _ right _ . He  _ belongs _ here, beside them. 

They fought to get to this point, lost so many people along the way, and can finally be connected once more, be  _ whole _ . 

  
  
  


“Newt, hey.”

The blond spun on his heel, brow furrowed as he stared at the two girls that walked up behind him. “Rachel, Alice…” The two shared a look before grinning at him. 

“I see y’are gettin’ used ta things,” Rachel nodded behind him, to where Newt had been headed. He had been walking towards the gardens, the small, fenced off area away from the main camp pavilion so any sort of fertilizer would not be smelled. 

He’d only been there a week or two, but a few days ago, Vince had pulled them all apart and said they need to get to their own chores and stop slacking. Brenda and Gally were the first ones to split after the first day, coming to terms with the fact that Newt wasn’t going to just disappear on them. Frypan had been next after two days, wanting to get back in the kitchens after Newt decided he wanted to work in  the gardens, help plant crops and harvest. 

Minho and Thomas had stuck with Newt a few more days, before Brenda came around and pulled Minho off, saying she wanted to go check out further down the land, see what they could find in the small forest. Thomas had barely left Newt’s side, only parting this morning when he was pulled away by Vince and a few others that had taken charge of the large group of people. 

He was actually a bit astonished to see Rachel and Alice. He hasn't seen anyone that brought him here since he was taken off the berg and was surrounded by his family. Jordan had only given instructions to Vince and Jorge about how to care for Newt’s neck, he hadn't seen the other since Evan died in front of them. 

“Yeah,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I was a gardener or at least a helper back in the Glade… working just feels right. Think my mentality before was if I kept busy I didn't have time to think about the shitty situation I was in…” he trailed off, frowning as he thought on it. He remembered a time when he didn't do anything, a time when he was supposed to relax… that was also the time when he got too lost, too distracted and tried to take his own life for it. 

He cleared his throat, looking back at them. “What about you all? Did Vince try to assign you chores yet?” He broke off into a small chuckle, forcing himself to smile. 

“That’s actually what we came to talk to you about.” 

The sudden seriousness caught Newt off-guard. The small jovial feeling he experienced crumbled and he glared at them, trying to read their features. Both girls wore masks of stoicism, their shoulders pressed together as they stared at Newt blankly. 

“What do you mean?”

Rachel sighed heavily, shoulders dropping and a sympathetic look overtook her face. “We ain’t stayin’ hun.”

“What?” 

“We can't stay, Newt,” Alice said. Newt looked over to her, nerves cramping up. “Nikos never wanted to come in the first place, especially after losing Byron… but losing  _ Evan _ … It broke them.”

_ Them _ . Not just Nikos, but everyone else. Jordan, Raphael, Jayden… Newt recalls what Evan had talked with him about. They had been mildly ready for Evan to die of the Flare, to have no risk and for him to be quietly put to rest in his sleep. They weren't prepared for someone to  _ shoot _ him. For someone to try and shoot Newt but Evan to risk his life in return. 

“You’d rather go back to cranks?” Newt began. Maybe he could reason with them. They didn't deserve to not have a place to live, a place that was safe. They helped Newt more than they could ever know, helped him back to his family. 

“Raph’s the one leadin’ the charge hun. He doesn’ wanna see any sort of reminder that they could have been happy here.” A silence befell them and all Newt could hear was the bustle of people surrounding them, people that had no idea what was happening right in front of them. “He wants ta move out ‘fore nightfall. Wants ta get back as fast as possible.”

Alice looked at Newt softly, reaching a hand out to grab Newt’s own. “You have your family back hun. Don't worry about us.”

“We gotta fix what was broken.”

A sharp pain stabbed at Newt’s gut. They were really leaving. A group of people that deserve safety and peace, deserve a chance at living away from it all. The two turned to leave, to head back to the berg and Newt stumbled forwards after them. “Will you ever come back?”

Rachel shrugged, leaving him with a half smile. “Who’s ta say we won't finda place out there? That we’ll find somewhere to be safe ourselves? No tellin’ what’ll happen in the future.” And then they were leaving again, walking off back the way they came. 

He was hit with a sudden need to tell them that they didn't have to follow the others, that  _ they _ could stay there. They were their own people, they could decide for themselves… but he couldn't. Those people were  _ their  _ family. He cold never ask them to leave their family, the people they’ve been through so much with. He wouldn't want someone to tell him that, so he wouldn't tell someone else that. 

Everyone had their own choices to make and live by. They had already made up their minds about this. 

  
  
  


They were being joined by three others. Newt vaguely recognizes them, the two girls and boy all huddled together as they sat among them on logs. The blonde girl caught his attention, just a miniscule touch of an accent in certain words that matched his own. 

Any time he looked at her, saw glimpses of her, he was hit with memories, flashes of a blonde girl younger than him, stronger than him, comforting him. A girl he was taken with and separated from, who he fought tooth and nail to get back to. Who someone he loved gave him a chance to meet with again. 

He wasn’t certain, but everything in him screamed that this was Elizabeth,  _ Lizzy _ … his younger sister. But there was also that lingering feeling that she didn’t know him. When those three found out he was alive, they shared hugs and words, but that was it. There was nothing indicating she remembered. 

Newt wasn’t sure if he spoke of it, that it would be accepted so easily. To be told you have a sibling after no memory of them… it wouldn’t be an easy thing to think on, to even hear. 

The three of them reminded Newt of his relationship with Minho and Thomas. A closeness that came about only through suffering from hardships. The feeling that trust was between them regardless of having no memories. He remembers now, how Newt had found Minho and Alby at first… then they caused trouble finding Thomas and Teresa. He had found a family in them, a replacement for the people he was stolen from. 

He remembers gravitating towards them in the Glade, finding a similar niche to being so entwined with Alby and Minho. He also remembers the intense trust he immediately felt towards Thomas when he rose from the box. Now that he has his memories with his time in WCKD, he knows it had something to do with how Tommy got him in to see Lizzy. How he risked his own position so Newt could say goodbye to his sister. 

He needed to speak to her, who everyone calls Sonya, find out, get an even stronger inkling. He needed to know, even get closer to her, strike something of remembrance in her. Maybe she had the same feeling he once had. From what Newt has noticed… family has a connection that the subconscious mind cannot forget. They recognize their own, the people they had connections with before. 

He leaned back against the log behind him, shoulder pressing into Thomas’ beside him. The other was chatting back and forth with Minho, snarking with Gally, laughter reigning among them. Dinner had been served a while ago, a makeshift soup that apparently Frypan had help in creating. It was different than the stew served in the Glade, a myriad of spices that were found on the island infused into the soup. 

Many of the women that had taken the job of cooking for everyone had been kind when passing out servings, a scene not unlike how the Gladers got their own food. A line was made and food was handed out as people came up. The women were loud and boisterous, a few expressing their gratitude at being able to cook something with spices they thought they’d never see again. 

They had their own garden set up away from the crop garden, one full of herbs and small plants that could be used to season food. Newt had been asked a few days before to help them care for it, one of the women spotting his eye for plant care and enlisting him into their small sanction. 

It was different to see people so happy, so excited and ready to live their lives safely. They were ecstatic to see young adults and kids alike be able to grow up without the threat of cranks, the threat of the Flare. These were people that had lived through the outbreaks and seen what happened to anyone who got the Flare. 

His shoulder was knocked against and Newt turned towards it, eyes catching on the standing rock a small ways in front of the small fire pit they sat around. His brow furrowed in confusion, biting the inside of his cheek as he observed it. 

He’s been here a few weeks but never noticed it before. It had never caught his attention beyond just being there. But staring at it, just looking at it in the dark firelight, Newt could make out words carved into it. He couldn’t see what was carved there, it being too dark at his distance. 

Curiosity overcoming him, Newt placed a hand on Thomas’ thigh and lifted himself up. He drew the attention of those surrounding him but he gave them a careful smile and quietly explained, “I’m gonna look at somethin’ real quick.” 

And then he was walking around the fire pit and towards the stone. As he neared it he could make out various names. He recognized a few… from the many names he had first remembered when faces were nonexistent. Chuck, Alby, Ben, Nick… all of them were placed on this stone, carved into it-- reminiscent of what they did to welcome a new greenie in the Glade. He trailed his fingers over a few of them, eyes spotting Teresa placed at the very edge of the stone. His heart ached at the thought of her. Of a harsh betrayal… but Newt could understand it now. Understand why she did it after remembering what his own life had been like before. 

His eyes trailed down, breath hitching as he spotted his own name. He let his fingers lay into the grooves, tracing over the letters. This was a memorial stone-- something created so the ones that… didn't make it could be here. 

A sudden presence came up behind him, a firm shoulder pressing against his own. He leaned slightly against it, feeling a hand collect his own free one, interlacing their fingers. Tommy’s voice rang out, explaining, “Vince wanted to make this, so that we could remember the ones we lost on the way here. Give them a place of their own with us all.”

His hand fell from his own name, the other squeezing tightly at Thomas’ hand. “A bloody wonderful idea.” And then he was turning into Thomas, pressing his face against the other’s shoulder. Thomas’ free hand came up and wrapped around his back, Newt copying the movement with his other hand, their finger laced hands resting between them. 

Thomas bowed his head against Newt’s… and Newt had never felt more at peace. Couldn't think of a place safer than where he was now. There was still things to figure out… things to talk about… but right now-- holding Thomas and being held in return… Newt was  _ home _ . 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a long run, and I'm actually pretty happy with how this story turned out. There were many ups and downs and me not knowing which direction this was headed... but I'm glad with this ending. It is meant to be open-ended and such, leaving a broken ending instead of a good conclusion. I didn't want to make a significant resolution, just wanted to give a viewpoint of what the other characters were doing, and give our favorites a chance to see things on the other side of the world. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Are you sure you should be headed out there?” Vince asked Thomas, the boy’s eyes darting back to where Newt waited with Minho and Frypan. The small group of them had decided to go back to the mainland. They wanted to check on a few things left behind, see if there was any other immunes that were still around. 

Vince hadn't agreed at first, but after Brenda had pointed out how finding other people that had different experience-- medical, plant, survival knowledge-- could help them out. Jorge had protested as well, not wanting the kids to leave off on their own. They had only been in this paradise for six months, and they wanted to  _ leave _ ? 

Thomas and Brenda were the ones to bring up the idea… both adamantly refusing Newt to go with. Vince had never wanted to laugh at something so badly, to watch Newt tell them both with a deadpan face that he was going. Vince remembered why he always sent Newt after Thomas back in the Scorch. The boy was a compromiser and was someone Thomas listened to. 

And Thomas couldn’t exactly find the words to refuse when Newt told him he wanted to check on some people. 

“We’ll be fine Vince,” Thomas said, eyes straying to watch Frypan and Brenda, both carrying supply boxes towards the other three. Jorge came up behind them, speaking with Gally and the tall boy nodding fervently. They had planned this a few weeks ago, Jorge taking Gally aside and teaching him how to steer a ship. 

Thomas knew Vince worried about them, but they needed to do this. Make themselves feel better. What if they left others behind, what if WCKD was still around, or at least people that believed their ideals? That a group of WCKD scientists decided to bring the Maze Trials back to find a cure. 

There was no telling if there was someone around that could still extract a serum from immunes. Or if people decided to try something else, some other way to cure the Flare. 

He had given Newt’s friends the cure that Teresa had made of his blood but there was no telling what they had done with it. 

“Alright, keep each other safe.” 

  
  
  


Hanging upside down wasn’t his favorite pastime. Quite frankly, he didn’t think he’d ever have to be in this sort of situation again. He didn’t expect people to still be making traps like this. 

At least cranks weren’t the guard dogs this time. 

“Thanks  _ so _ much for getting us here Thomas!” Minho exclaimed. Thomas huffed in return, not replying and when Minho slowly spun in a circle, he spotted the stupid brunet holding onto Newt instead of finding a goddamn way out for his. For fucks sake. 

“Is this how y’all felt when we had you strung up?” Brenda asked. 

Minho could see as he spun, Gally swing himself around to look at Brenda. “You strung them up like this before?” 

A sharp grin and a head flick. “Yep, had to keep strangers out somehow.” A breathless laugh left Gally and Frypan sighed heavily behind Minho. The Asian slowly spun around without any effort and was met with Frypan amused smirk. 

“Havin’ fun there Min?”

“A  _ blast _ Fry.” 

There was a rough giggle and Minho glared at nothing as he kept spinning slowly. He came around full circle and hissed as Newt and Thomas were before him. “You you two lovebirds cut it out? We are in a fucking trap and you’re trying to make out or some bullshit, what the  _ fuck _ .” 

“This is different than Brenda’s and Jorge’s Min,” Thomas said. “I really don’t see any possible way we  _ could _ get out. Whoever made this thought escape routes through.” 

“Was that a slight at me Tommy-boy?” Brenda asked. Minho twisted around and saw Brenda glaring at Thomas, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. He couldn’t see Thomas anymore but he could physically  _ feel  _ the smirk on his face. Great, they were going to start fighting while they hang upside down. The perfect solution. 

With a heavy sigh, Minho resigned himself to spinning around in a circle and suffering.

Before Brenda and Thomas could start arguing however, there was a raspy laugh followed by laughter that reminded Minho of a bell. There was an excited noise from behind Minho as Newt’s familiar laughter joined the other two sounds. 

“What on earth are y’all doin’ here?” Came a raspy voice, a sound Minho recognized slightly, yet he couldn’t place where he heard it before. 

“Rachel, Alice!” Newt’s exclamation was met with more laughter. As Minho spun around, he spotted two women crowded together, leaning against one another as they fell apart in laughter. One was tall and blonde, the other short and brunette— and Minho remembered. These were the people that had helped bring Newt back. 

“Oh my god, this’s the hardest I’ve laughed in so long,” the blonde said, wiping her eyes as she walked backwards to the wall. There was a hole in the wall and she reached her hand inside. A harsh groaning sound made Minho suck in a breath, sight blurring as rumbling travelled through the large room. That sign wasn’t good. Why was he hearing that? The walls didn’t exist anymore. 

A loud boom sounded and broke Minho from his trance. He blinked furiously, glancing around paranoidly. Beneath him, the large pit that had been a black chasm before was covered by a metal plate. Rachel and Alice were walking on it and carefully untying Newt and Thomas. 

As soon as the two were on their feet, they started helping the two women untie everyone else. Newt shooed Thomas away from Gally, Minho knowing why when he spotted the mischievous look in Thomas’ eye. The other was probably going to just let Gally fall on the floor head first. 

It took only a few minutes for Minho to be the last one still tied up, hanging upside down and watching his family watch him. Brenda observed him with a devilish sneer. “Y’know, he looks like he enjoys this. I think we should leave him there.” 

Minho stared at her blankly. He took a deep breath and stared directly at her eyes, feeling a crazed sense of hatred build in him. “Brenda. You know I love you. But if you don’t get me down,  _ right. Now.  _ I’m going to fucking murder you all.” 

His threat got nothing but laughs but the short brunette— Alice, if Minho remembers correctly— took pity upon him and started to untie his legs. The other girl— Rachel?— began to help her, carefully releasing him from the shitty situation he didn’t want to repeat ever again. 

Alice turned to look at them as soon as Minho was finished glaring at the idiots he called family. “Apologies for the precautions. Our guards are more attack first, ask questions later.”

“In their defense,” Rachel interrupted, “Newt and his buddies did decide ta enter a pr’tty well guarded place with no hesitation.”

“We hesitated!” Frypan exclaimed. Rachel looked at him in disbelief. “Sort of…”

“You guys will get killed doin’ that.” 

“We can handle a few cranks,” Brenda said, rolling her eyes. 

Rachel scoffed, walking off to a metal door that slid open, light pouring into the dim room, “Who said anythin’ ‘bout cranks.” 

The six of them exchanged confused glances, Alice giving a half smile before walking after Rachel. Minho looked to Thomas and Newt, the latter shrugging and following after the two women, Thomas quick to follow. Minho shared a look with Brenda, both of them sighing in tandem at the two’s ridiculousness, following after. 

They walked through a large hallway, lit up with bright lights. Minho blinked furiously to adjust his sight to the light. They walked quietly in the confined space, moving together as a group. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Newt’s accented voice rang out. “All the others?”

Rachel and Alice shared a look, something Minho couldn’t recognize. Alice hummed softly, looking over her shoulder at them. “After we left… your safe haven… things kind of fell apart,” she began. “As soon as we returned to the mainland, traveling farther north to escape the Scorch— Nikos, Jamie, and Braydon left us. They wanted to go off on their own, find a safe place where they could be alone…

“The rest of us— Raphael, Mason, Jason, Jayden, and Jordan— we travelled to find a rumored base that still remained after factions from before the Flare,” she paused, cheek sinking into her mouth as she bit it. “On the way… Jayden went off the rails. Thomas giving him the ‘Cure’ caused him to theorize several ideas that could recreate this cure. He… left on his own, in the middle of the night when he was supposed to be on watch.”

A door hissed open and as they walked through it, Rachel continued the explanation. “Afta that things went inta even more chaos. Mason and Jason left next, Mason refusin’ to leave Jayden on his own. Jordan… he…” a rough pause. Minho’s head tilted as he tried to catch the emotion on Rachel’s face before she turned forwards. “He killed himself.”

Gasps followed and Minho’s own breath hitched. It hit Minho hard, chest twinging tightly. Hearing about something such as that… so bluntly… was never easy.

“Raphael fell off the deep end and ditched us next— we still don’t know where he went.” She turned to them fully, hands fisted on her hips as she continued. “We found this place afta, an’ then heard outcroppin’s of cranks bein’ captured. Reminded us o’ what we did with Jayden before, thought we could find ‘im an’ tell ‘im what happened ta Jordan.

“We tried followin’ the rumors but couldn’t ever get close ta where they originated from,” she said, hand moving up to scratch the back of her head. “We came back here and started up the farmin’ and shit. Then people started comin’ from nowhere, sayin’ they’d been saved or some shit, givin’ stories of a kid that has a cure.”

“We think Jayden somehow had a way to recreate the ‘Cure’,” Alice interrupted. “He’s done too much research to not understand a few things, and if he managed to find people that worked as doctors or people that know vaccines… they could do it. If anyone could come up with a resolution… it’s him.” 

 


End file.
